


Broken Wings

by Twilight_PhoenixFyre



Series: Angelic Reset [1]
Category: Tales of Phantasia, Tales of Symphonia, Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World
Genre: Colette doesn't handle agelessness well, Creative liberties taken with the dwarves, Gen, I may add tags as we go and I think of them, Lloyd can't catch a break, Lots of time-skipping, Martel did something stupid, The Phantasia charries only show up in the last 10k words or so, Tissues suggested, lots of people die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-05-28 12:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 48
Words: 53,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15048860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twilight_PhoenixFyre/pseuds/Twilight_PhoenixFyre
Summary: "Don't die, Lloyd... My son." Five words Lloyd shouldn't have heard."I won't. I promise." Four words that Lloyd should never have been able to hold to."I love you." Three words Lloyd wished were easier to say."It's done." Two words that carried the weight of the world as he knelt before Origin's slate."Farewell." One word... that Lloyd said hundreds of thousands of times over the course of his life.Lloyd Irving had made a promise. A promise he shouldn't have been able to keep, and yet... He did. Perhaps for the better... perhaps for the worst. Only time would tell. Except, time seemed to be something only Lloyd truly had to spare.





	1. Kratos' Departure

**Author's Note:**

> And here is a story I've been trying to get edited and posted for over a year. There will be massive amounts of time-skipping, and I sincerely suggest finding a box of tissues before we get too far in. Posting the first two scenes today (because they're both super-short and pulled almost straight from canon), and then will post two or three more before July Camp NaNo officially starts. No promises on an update schedule come July, though.
> 
> Some minor warnings:  
> First, this story is being cross-posted on FF.net. (Just in case anyone was wondering/cared.)  
> Second, there are a LOT of OCs in this as we get into the later chapters, due to the fact that... well. People die, and Lloyd is... not exactly a great hermit.
> 
> Okay, disclaimer time~  
> I do not own Tales of Symphonia, Tales of Phantasia, or any affiliated characters/concepts. I do however own any and all Original Characters and ask that permission be requested before they are used elsewhere.  
> Now then... Enjoy~

Lloyd had been dreading this moment since they'd defeated Mithos. And yet... there Kratos stood before him, clearly not as conflicted as he himself was.

"Are you really going to Derris-Kharlan?" Lloyd asked, praying that Kratos would change his mind.

"If a half-elf of Cruxis remains, the other half-elves will have no place to live." Lloyd closed his eyes, forcing down the heartache. "As a surviving member of Cruxis, I must bear the responsibility for what has happened."

Yeah. There really was no budging him.

Lloyd took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. "I'm going to collect all the exspheres remaining in this land."

The nod that met his words was tight, controlled... Kratos _was_ conflicted. Just doing a lot better job hiding it than Lloyd was. "And I will discard all of Cruxis' exspheres into space." He stopped, sighed, and let the rigid control slip for a moment, regret shadowing his eyes. "I've dragged you into this until the very end..."

And for all that Lloyd wanted him to stay, wanted to get to know his father... "It's okay." They had their jobs to do...

Although... Colette, Raine, Genis, Zelos... they'd all be able to collect the exspheres themselves... he didn't have to stay...

"It's time for me to go. Please use that sword to send us to Derris-Kharlan," Kratos said, the words firm enough that Lloyd knew going with him wouldn't fly very well.

He lifted the Eternal Sword slowly, gathering up his courage for the single most difficult task he'd had to ask of it yet. "Goodbye... Dad!"

The light shifted, enveloping Kratos and the Desians who waited behind him.

And even as they were taken to Derris-Kharlan, Lloyd heard the last words Kratos had spoken.

" _Don't die, Lloyd... My son..."_

Lloyd closed his eyes. "I won't... I promise."

Even though he was human... even though he would fade in time... He would keep that promise for as long as he could.


	2. With the Snow as My Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years after sending his father to Derris-Kharlan, Lloyd struggles to work out who he is past the crimes Decus has committed in his name.

Lloyd felt... numb.

So many dead in the last year. Whether by Decus' actions, pretending to be him, or by his actions, refusing to stop and explain to anyone. So many lives lost that he wished he hadn't been responsible for in some way. And yet, there was nothing he could do now.

It was over, at least. And he'd likely spend the rest of his life with the shadows of this year following him around.

Footsteps on the snow drew his attention, and somehow, he wasn't all that surprised when it was Colette who spoke up a moment later. "Lloyd, are you alright?"

"Colette..." He took a deep breath, plastered on a smile, and turned around. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Liar."

He blinked. That was... unexpected. Colette didn't usually bother calling him out on his little fibs.

"You always say you're alright, but it's not really true," she continued. And from the way she seemed almost curled in on herself, she'd been holding this in for a long time, and was wary about finally spilling it. "You're feeling hurt, aren't you?"

The sigh that escaped him was heavy with the weariness of watching the world go to hell around him. "Colette..."

"I know you're strong," she said quickly, as if sensing that he wouldn't let her continue if she didn't. Lloyd shifted, a small smile starting to lift the corner of his mouth. "But that strength, it's made from a big ball of kindness... and so, what I mean is, you're really, really kind." Her blue eyes finally rose from the snow beneath their feet. "And kind people get hurt very easily."

"You dummy..." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and the startled look on Colette's face was worth it. "What are you trying to do, make me cry?" Because, dammit, that was about where he figured he was headed. And he'd come up here to try to _stop_ himself from crying.

"It's okay to cry. Sometimes tears are the best medicine."

Lloyd knew she'd be able to see the tear streaking down his cheek. Her eyesight was so much better than his, even when he wasn't fighting with the water in his eyes. "You're the only one I'd let myself cry for," he admitted quietly, closing the short distance between them and wrapping his arms around her.

"Lloyd..."

"Thank you. It was so hard being without you," he whispered, even as Colette hugged him back, half burying her face in his coat.

"Yes, for me, too."

"I love you, Colette."

There, he'd said it. The words he'd been holding back for _years_... And he hoped beyond hope that his love would be enough to keep her by his side. She was an angel, she would never age a day beyond sixteen, and... Lloyd was alright with that. If he had to grow old and die, he'd be _fine_... as long as Colette stayed by his side.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each others' arms, until Lloyd took a deep breath, shifted back a little, and brushed some of Colette's hair behind her ear.

So beautiful... He wished Cruxis hadn't gotten in the way, really.

Colette looked up at him, those blue eyes searching his face, and though the smile that she graced him with next wasn't her usual sunny grin, it was an honest smile. "Shall we go tell everyone to stop worrying?"

Lloyd chuckled. "Yeah. I guess we do have a world to save, after all."

She giggled right back, clearly happy to see him in a better mood.


	3. Friends and Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratatosk and Richter must begin their work, but Lloyd sees more than his friends give him credit for, and Solum is sentimental enough to care about Decus... somewhat.

Saying goodbye was hard. Not just for his friends—he could see in the slumps of their shoulders that _no one_ wanted to leave Emil behind—but for Emil... Ratatosk... as well.

So as Lloyd stepped forward, knowing that Marta would want to be last, he took a deep breath, and forced a smile. Not a difficult task, not anymore. Not after Kratos.

“Emil?” The blonde turned slightly, blood-red eyes not really startling Lloyd anymore as he put a hand on the teen’s shoulder.

The smile became a little less forced, and Lloyd watched some of the tension leave the boy’s shoulders. “I want to believe that we’ll see each other again someday. So I’m not gonna say goodbye.”

He nodded, noting the slight smile on the boy’s face, and Lloyd was able to take that and turn, walking away from Emil, out of Ratatosk’s home.

He waited, though, for Marta to step out. Her tears told him enough.

Lloyd took a deep breath and put an arm around her shoulder. Her gasp and the way her head shot up told him he’d startled her, and he offered up a small, apologetic smile. She sniffed, took a deep breath, and then let the floodgates open. Even though it was clear that she was trying her hardest not to show him just how badly she was hurt, there was nothing any of them could do.

Lloyd sighed, never once letting his arm fall, keeping her close until she was ready to walk away on her own... whenever that would be.

They stopped partway to the exit of the Ginnungagap, though, and Lloyd frowned at the bodies that lay in the open space.

“Marta?” She seemed to be starting to get a grasp on herself...

She sniffed, seemed to notice the bodies, and a new wave of tears fell. Tears that she frantically tried to brush away. “We should... We should bury them. They de-hic! Deserve that much, at least.”

Lloyd nodded. “We’ve got some time. I think the others went ahead to the Otherworldly Gate to wait for us.”

Marta sniffed again. “Emil said we needed to leave, though...”

Lloyd couldn’t help it. He chuckled. “He’s going to physically seal himself and Richter into the deepest part of the Ginnungagap, that area where the doorway between Aselia and Niflheim is, so neither of them is tempted to leave. The _problem_ is, Richter’s still mortal. I’ll probably have to come knocking at _some_ point just to make sure Richter _survives_ long enough for Ratatosk to complete his task.”

Marta blinked up at him, then suddenly burst out laughing. Lloyd wasn’t sure _exactly_ what was so funny, but the fact that she was laughing, and it wasn’t pure hysterics, counted as a win in his books.

But that still left...

Lloyd looked over at the still forms of Alice and Decus and sighed. Even with the two of them, and the shovels he had in his wing pack—he’d buried too many people in the last few months to _not_ carry multiple shovels, which was a morbid enough thought in and of itself—it would take them _hours_. The others would notice.

Except, just as Lloyd made to pull the shovels out, movement drew his eye.

The source of the movement was a brown frog. When the light hit it correctly, its skin shimmered with gold flecking, and Lloyd blinked, because for whatever reason, it had no eyes. Well, no visible eyes, at least.

And it was hopping right over toward them, though it stopped a far enough distance away so as to not be in immediate fighting range.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be leaving?”

Marta yelped and turned around, clearly not having noticed the frog joining them.

“You must be Solum,” Lloyd mused. Talking animal, the right colors to be an earth-elemental,  about the same size, roughly, as Tenebrae and Aqua...

The frog seemed amused. “I must be, eh?”

Its form blurred, and Lloyd fought the urge to attack the doppelganger of himself that now stood across from him, blinking at him in clear surprise. “...Ah. That would explain it.”

“...Huh?”

Yeah, Lloyd was about as clueless as Marta was right now.

Solum outright laughed at their expressions. Lloyd couldn’t blame him—it wasn’t every day someone managed to leave him totally baffled anymore.

“I’m blind in my natural form. And while I can transform at will, I have to rely on the Knights and occasionally people like Decus to take a _useful_ form. It doesn’t help that since I can’t _see_ what I’m trying to turn into...”

“You can’t match it well enough to actually pass,” Lloyd finished, realizing why the Centurion had turned into him _again_. Decus had used his form so often over the last year that it must be familiar enough Solum could still pull it out easily, while also having had Decus’ eye for details.

Solum nodded. “While I’m not exactly happy about what Decus used my shapeshifting ability to do, it’s nice having eyes. Anyway, I figured since he and Alice were still here, I might as well come out and bury them properly.”

“We were thinking the same thing,” Marta said softly. “Though... I don’t know how we were supposed to do that...”

Lloyd grimaced. “You don’t want to know how many graves I’ve dug in the last year, Marta. I think the fact that I took to carrying a couple shovels in my wing pack is probably my clue that I’ve got a problem.”

From the way Marta and Solum both winced, he was probably right, too.

“I can do the digging easy,” Solum piped up. “Perks of being an earth-elemental.” He stopped here and turned slightly, glancing back toward the deeper parts of the Ginnungagap. “I’ll probably have to bury Richter, too...”

Which brought them back around to what Lloyd had mentioned earlier... “Does Ratatosk realize that Richter’s going to need food and stuff?”

Solum gave Lloyd an amused look. “Honestly, I’m not sure. But given that I have it on good authority that Richter can’t cook without something blowing up...”

“Oh boy. I may need to come knocking earlier than I’d planned...” Lloyd muttered.

Solum snickered. “Nah. Ratatosk might have overlooked it, but Aqua knows better. He’ll be fine.” A pause, and then a sigh. “Though... Visiting might be a good idea. Not immediately... but later. Keep them from killing each other.”

Marta nodded. “I probably will, if Lloyd’s right and the only reason Ratatosk’s sealing them in is to keep them from leaving.”

Lloyd nodded, then started looking around. They still needed to bury Alice and Decus, and much as he would have liked to stay down here chatting with Solum for a while... Colette and the others were waiting. “I’m thinking maybe a little further off the path.”

Solum nodded, and walked over toward something that looked like a tree. “Over here, maybe?”

Marta nodded. “Yes. That should be a good place.”

At least these two would get a proper burial, Lloyd mused as Solum shifted back into his frog form and promptly began digging a single, large hole. And they’d be together, which seemed to make Marta happier.

His eyes drifted back toward Ratatosk’s lair, and he made himself a promise.

_‘I’ll come visit in a year or so. Even if only to let you know how things are going.’_


	4. Emil Castagnier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emil lives! ...And Lloyd is using logic?

A week was a long time, Lloyd mused as he worked. But then, six months was a long time to not be doing anything about the exspheres he’d been collecting.

He’d need to move his own soon, if he wanted to keep it a little longer. Letting it stay openly on his hand would only draw attention to it, and to him. And, he’d bury it too... eventually. But, not today.

With the sun beating down on his probably-sunburnt shoulders and sweat coating his brow, Lloyd shoveled the last of the dirt into the hole he’d spent the entire day digging, filling, and then covering again.

Most people wouldn’t stray far from the roads that led from Palmacosta to Asgard or Thoda Docks, so by burying the most recent batch of exspheres here in the middle of the plains, they’d stay hidden. Or, that was his hope, at least.

“You’re a long way from civilization.”

Lloyd froze in the act of wiping the sweat from his brow, because he knew that voice.

It took a bare second to plant the shovel in the ground, even as he turned around and _stared_.

There stood Emil, green eyes glittering with barely-contained amusement, half a dozen monsters milling around nearby. The simurgh that stood a ways off, preening itself, explained how he’d been found, and how Emil had managed to sneak up on him with a whole posse of monsters.

And the blonde was now grinning. “You know, just because you didn’t say goodbye, doesn’t mean you can’t say hello.”

Lloyd snorted, then reached out and smacked Emil. “That was for the smart-ass comment,” he said. “What are you doing here? I thought...”

Emil hummed. “Richter pointed out that Ratatosk was technically split in two that entire time between the Blood Purges in Palmacosta and when he reclaimed the jewel on Marta’s forehead in the Ginnungagap. He talked Ratatosk into letting me go live out my life. The Centurions and their monsters can deal with the mana while Richter, who’s currently fused with Ratatosk’s Core, focuses on keeping the demons at bay.”

“So you’re free to roam around,” Lloyd realized. Emil nodded.

“Yeah. And still bound as a Knight of Ratatosk, so I get to keep all the monsters I pacted. Helped a lot for finding Marta. I hadn’t expected her to get back to Palmacosta so quickly,” he replied. “Though, on that note, _you_ continue to be notoriously difficult to track down.”

Lloyd chuckled. “The entire point behind burying the exspheres where they won’t be found is to bury them where they _won’t be found_. If _I’m_ easy to find, so are they.”

Emil gave the loose earth behind him a look. “So why the middle of the plains?”

Lloyd gestured around them. “Exsphere mines occur in mountain ranges because the exspheres form pretty far under the surface. The mountains are just earth that’s been shoved upward, so the exspheres are easier to get to. Out here’s probably one of the best places. I know I’ve buried a few hundred in this general area, another few hundred on the Asgard plains, more on the plains between Iselia and Triet, and outside Izoold...”

Emil smiled. “I get it. And there’s plenty of open space between a spot like this and the roads, so the loose dirt wouldn’t be noticed easily from the road.”

“Exactly!”

Though, between him, Emil, and all the monsters, it would be a bit easier to notice...

Eh. He could just come back and make sure it hadn’t been disturbed later.

“That’s actually really smart.”

Lloyd put on an expression of annoyance, even though he really _wasn’t_ annoyed. “You say that like I’m not smart.”

Emil was clearly teasing him, even as he replied. “I dunno... Your companions from the Regeneration Journey never did praise you for your smarts. Skill, yes, but...”

“Oh, shut up,” Lloyd grumbled half-heartedly. “I know I’ll never be as book-smart as Genis and the Professor, but I’m not _stupid_ , either.”

Emil nodded. “I know. Um...” He stopped here and glanced toward Palmacosta. “What... _really_ happened on the Journey? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

Lloyd sighed. “Right... Colette and Zelos are using the Church to keep things from getting out of hand...”

“Huh?”

He didn’t continue that train of thought immediately, instead choosing to finish with his exsphere hole and then step away, the shovel tucked back in his wing pack even as his rheaird floated over the grass nearby. “Come on. I’ll fly slow enough your simurgh can keep up. I’d rather not hang around out here much longer, and I feel like this is a bad place to explain, anyway. It’s... a long story, but you deserve to know what really happened. Besides, we should probably get Marta, too.”

Emil nodded. “Okay. Oh, and his name’s Euros.”

Lloyd blinked a few times, before realizing that Emil was gesturing to the simurgh.

A chuckle, and nod, and the two took to the air, Lloyd taking a deep breath as they flew back toward Palmacosta. Most of Emil’s monsters had simply vanished in orbs of darkness, though one Black Wolf was being brought along for the ride.

Lloyd couldn’t help but smile at the sight, especially once he and Emil landed and the first thing Emil did was thank Euros.

Yes, he was definitely glad Richter and Ratatosk had found a way to let the kid live out his life. He deserved it.


	5. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something breaks... And for once, Colette did it on purpose.

Lloyd eyed up today’s pile of dirt that hid a bag of shattered exspheres. This one was closer to Iselia, hidden near the shore on the fields between the town and the Martel Temple. He hoped that it would be a good enough hiding spot. Shattering the things only did so much good. The shards weren’t as dangerous as the exspheres themselves, but they were still a danger.

And... _ow_ , his shoulders hurt.

One of these days, he wouldn’t have to worry about sunburn. Until then...

Glowing pink drew his eyes, and he was smiling even before Colette landed.

That smile didn’t last long, however, and Colette’s expression had him abandoning his shovel and running over to her.

“Colette? What’s wrong?! What happened?!”

“Lloyd... I’m sorry. It’s better this way...” Colette stepped back when Lloyd moved to hold her, keeping a distance between them.

“Colette?” What... what was she doing...?

Her hands rose to her Cruxis Crystal, and the necklace he’d made for her that had, for a time, been part key crest. “I... I’m going to live forever. And... I don’t think I can do that to you, Lloyd. I’m sorry.”

Dawning horror rendered Lloyd mute, because he knew what she was doing, now. He _knew_... and had no idea how to stop it.

“Colette...”

“I’m sorry.” Her hands came away from her neck, the necklace he’d made for her placed into his hand. “Please... Don’t linger on me. You deserve to be happy.”

“Colette, please—“

She _jumped_ , her wings catching the wind and carrying her away before Lloyd could react, before he could do more than reach out for her—

And she’d kept too much distance between them for him to have ever had a chance to hold her down.

He turned on his heel, racing back to his stuff and grabbing up his wing pack with the intention of pulling out his rheaird and following Colette. He _had_ to catch up to her, he had to convince her...

That what? That watching him grow old and die was better than ending things now?

Lloyd stopped, his eyes locked on his wing pack but unseeing.

Colette had tried to make it sound like she was doing this for his sake, but... She was being selfish. She knew she was going to live for a _very_ long time. They all did.

Lloyd... wasn’t.

His legs failed him, knees crashing into the very same dirt he’d just finished shoveling back into its hole. One hand rose, slowly, to the exsphere that now sat at the base of his throat.

He should bury his mother’s exsphere. He should, but he couldn’t bring himself to part with it just yet. It was all he had left of his biological parents...

No. That wasn’t true.

Lloyd forced himself to his feet again, fighting down the tears. Oh, how he wanted to let them loose, but...

_“You’re the only one I’d ever let myself cry for... I love you, Colette.”_

He wandered back into Iselia in a daze, shock and pain leaving him unsure of his steps.

Colette was gone. Maybe not _gone_ , gone, but she wasn’t coming back, not to him. And that... How was he supposed to take that?

“Lloyd?”

He stopped, the concerned and familiar voice snapping him out of his daze fairly well. He did his best to offer up a smile to Paul, even though he knew it wasn’t going to fool the boy. “Morning, kiddo.”

And that just seemed to get him more worried.

“Stay right there.”

The eight-year-old took off running, likely to go get his mother, and Lloyd sighed.

Great. Now he’s gotten Paul and Lilia all worried over him. That was the last thing he needed.

He shook his head, turned, and continued toward the exit to town.

Somehow, the fact that Lilia and Paul caught up to him before he made it more than a hundred yards past the gates told him that he really was in bad shape after this.

“I told you to stay!” Paul complained.

Lilia sighed. “That’s never worked on _you_. Which is why I said we would be checking the gates first.” She was silent for a moment before she placed her hand on his cheek, gently forcing him to turn and look at her. “Lloyd. What happened?”

Blue eyes. Not as bright as Colette’s, but... blue.

Lloyd closed his eyes and turned away. “Not right now...”

“Nuh-uh! You said if you’re hurt, you gotta tell someone about it! Remember?”

He wanted to walk away. Wanted to get home, and go tell his sorrows to his mother’s grave. But...

Lilia was _right there_. Paul was _right there_. And Paul...

He didn’t feel the first few tears, didn’t realize he’d started crying until Lilia was wiping the tears away, didn’t register the arms around him until there was a second set wrapped around his waist, because that was all Paul could _reach_...

_“I know you’re strong. But that strength, it’s made from a big ball of kindness... and so, what I mean is, you’re really, really kind... And kind people get hurt very easily.”_

Colette was right. Of course. He’d known that ages ago, but...

But he’d never expected _her_ to hurt him.

_“It’s okay to cry. Sometimes tears are the best medicine.”_

He gave up fighting back the heartache. Lilia and Paul had already seen his control break...

And Lilia never once made a comment about her damp shoulder, even as she and Paul dragged him back into Iselia, past the Sages’ house and to their own. Lloyd wasn’t ready to be alone, and they wouldn’t ask him to leave until he was ready.


	6. Too Late To Turn Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years to the day Colette broke his heart, Lloyd hovers in the place where he first confessed his love, and muses over the cruelty of fate.

“...Lloyd?”

He didn’t turn. Couldn’t force himself to look away from his exsphere. He’d moved it to just below his collarbone, in an attempt to hide it from the public eye, but he hadn’t intended to keep it forever; he just hadn’t been ready to let it go yet.

Not that he could, now.

“Bud, you’re gonna make yourself sick just standing out here.”

Heh, count on Zelos to come bug him at a time like this. Still...

“This, from the guy who’s always complaining about the cold. My coat’s warm.” And...he wanted... no. He _needed_ to feel the cold. Needed to feel the snow, the wind... Because the last few days had been terrifying.

He could admit, though, that he _did_ have it easier than Colette had. Her transformation into an Angel had been long, drawn out, and had spanned months. Months of fear, months of confusion...

Months of trying to hide everything to keep him, Raine, and Genis from worrying.

He closed his eyes, arms wrapped around himself. Three years to the day Colette had given her necklace back... and suddenly Lloyd wasn’t going to be growing old and dying on her after all. It... scared him. He’d only seen her once or twice since then, never spoken to her. She was keeping her distance from him, from Iselia... All of them, really.

“Just because your coat’s warmer, doesn’t mean you’re not going to make yourself sick,” Zelos argued, stepping up next to him. Lloyd didn’t reply, and the sigh Zelos let out next was tinged with sorrow. “Lloyd... The time I’ll have with you is short enough already. I really don’t want you to go and die on me ‘cause you had to stand around in Flanoir all night and get sick.”

He snorted. It wasn’t a nice sound. A sound of derision, or spite maybe. And he hadn’t _meant_ to make it. But...

“...Lloyd? What’s wrong?” The worry in Zelos’ voice could no longer be mistaken for anything else, and Lloyd took a deep breath. That air was let out in a sigh, and then he opened his eyes, glancing over at the redhead.

Zelos wouldn’t run away. _Hadn’t_. Even though Colette had, even though Lloyd suddenly wanted to...

Zelos wouldn’t run away.

Another deep breath, and Lloyd looked up at the sky, watching the snow falling lightly over the city like it always seemed to do. “Colette’s not handling her agelessness well.” Wow, that was bad. But... he didn’t know where else to start.

“No, she’s not,” Zelos agreed, the undertones telling Lloyd just what he thought about some of Colette’s decisions over the last few years. “Has she even stopped by to visit you since...?”

“No. I’ve only seen her in passing, and never in Iselia. Frank told me a few months ago that she’s only dropping in to visit him and Phaidra when she’s sure I’m out of town. Though, her last visit was met by Paul throwing a tomato at her when she was leaving.”

“I’d tell you to teach that kid not to use tomatoes as ammunition, but...”

“Might as well use them for _something_. I can’t eat them because they burn the inside of my mouth,” Lloyd pointed out, amusement starting to force away the dark feelings of fear and pain.

“Yeah, had a feeling you’d say something like that.” A moment’s silence, then... “You deflected me.” The surprise in Zelos’ voice had Lloyd giving him an unamused look.

“Like I’ve never done that before.”

Zelos rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I usually catch it _when you say it_. Not half a conversation later.” And then the warm blue cooled, not quite frozen, but hardened. “Lloyd. What’s really the matter?”

Lloyd sighed. “No reason to hide it. _You’d_ figure it out within a couple months, anyway...” A final deep breath, and then he focused on his exsphere... his _Cruxis Crystal_.

Blue light brightened the area around them, the same large, bird-like wings he’d had only briefly five years ago sprouting from his back. A thought had them shifting, folding up like a real bird’s wings, and though they took up much less space while folded as such, their light was no less bright.

“...Oh, _Lloyd_...”

He pulled the mana back in, his wings vanishing again and leaving just a few pale feathers to drift to the ground and disappear.

“How long...?”

“About a week from start to finish,” Lloyd murmured. Better than Colette’s transformation, easier, but... Zelos, Kratos, Yuan, even Mithos and Martel... theirs had been near instantaneous.

“Your mother’s exsphere,” Zelos realized. Lloyd nodded.

“Yeah. Which... I was planning on burying it with Mom when I got back to Iselia this round. I haven’t found _any_ exspheres on the last two runs, Paul’s getting to the age where sword training actually means _training_ and not playing, Lilia...” He stopped and closed his eyes again, shaking his head. “I guess that’s going to be my next stop. There’s really no reason for me to keep wandering right now.”

“You realize...”

“I know,” Lloyd whispered.

The entire reason Colette had left him was now something he had to worry about with Lilia... Assuming he stuck around.

She’d been so supportive of him these past three years. Her and Paul both, really, and he felt bad every time he showed up unannounced for dinner. He’d tried to refuse food a few times when that had happened, but Lilia hadn’t had a word of it, and had sat him right down and fed him.

And he hadn’t missed Paul asking her if she minded him calling Lloyd ‘dad’ the last time he’d been packing up for another exsphere run. While the boy hadn’t actually said it yet, it was clear the sentiment was there, and Lilia had seemed more amused than anything else...

He wished he’d known, three years ago, that this was going to happen. He wished he’d had the choice between Colette and Lilia, wished he’d had the choice between living an eternity... or just a human lifetime.

“I’m going to talk to Lilia about it,” he said. “Let her choose. Because... I can’t. I’m _still_ reeling from Colette’s rejection years ago.”

“You’ve fallen in love with her.” Zelos didn’t sound mad, or even surprised. Just... like Lloyd had just confirmed something he’d been wondering for a while.

Lloyd nodded. “I have. But... it’s not just about me and Lilia, either. I’m worried about Paul, and how he’ll handle it. And... I don’t know how to tell Colette.” A rough, not-quite laugh. “If I can even catch up to her long enough _to_ tell her.”

Zelos put an arm around his shoulders, and Lloyd leaned into the other man, worn out emotionally. “Let me worry about Colette, _after_ you’ve had your talk with Lilia. Once you two know what you’re going to do, we can figure out what to say to _her_.”

Lloyd nodded. “...Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's curious, in the very first version of this story, this was actually the second section. I'm glad I added some serious buildup prior to this. (Also, the last couple sections set up the rest of the next millennium.)


	7. Love Will Not Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd tells Lilia about his exsphere--now Cruxis Crystal--and Lilia surprises him.

Lloyd closed the door behind him carefully. It was late. Paul would be in bed already, and Lilia...

“Lloyd? Is that you?”

He smiled to himself and stepped into the next room. “I’m home, Lilia.”

Dark blue eyes rose from the blanket she was knitting, and Lilia smiled. “I wasn’t expecting you back for another couple weeks. You’re a little early.”

Lloyd wanted to chuckle, but...

The speed with which Lilia put down her knitting was telling, and she was already on her feet when she spoke. “Lloyd? What’s wrong?”

He closed the short distance between them, reminded keenly of that night in Flanoir so many years ago, just weeks before Colette had returned her necklace. “Do you remember... why the Desians wanted my mother’s exsphere so much?” he asked, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind Lilia’s ear.

She hummed. “It was part of a special project, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, the Angelus Project.” He stopped here and let his head hang. This... was hard. “Kvar was trying to make a Cruxis Crystal by evolving an exsphere. And...while he may be five years dead... he did succeed.”

Lilia didn’t respond immediately, and Lloyd stayed silent, inwardly terrified of what she was going to say.

“So... you’re going to leave?”

He may as well have been slapped, for all that he shifted back in shock. “Wha—?!”

“Isn’t that why Colette left? Because she was an angel and you were human? Except... now you’re an angel, and...”

Lloyd was shaking his head and pulling Lilia into a tight embrace before she could continue. “I love you.” And...he really needed to stop blurting that out if he was just going to get hurt. Not to mention the fact that Lilia was clearly in a state of shock.

He took a deep breath, pulled back far enough to look her in the eye, and soldiered on. “I do. I’m not just trying to pull your leg or something. And...that’s why I wanted to give you the choice.” Another deep breath, and Lloyd was vaguely aware of just how gingerly he was touching her, like she was a delicate doll he could break if he simply held it wrong.

Lilia was a lot of things, but delicate wasn’t one of them.

“Colette left because she couldn’t bear the thought of having to watch me grow old and die. But now I’ve lost one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and I know she has to be hurting, too, because she’s avoiding _everyone_. That’s no way to live. I know it’s going to hurt, watching everyone around me go, but... All the more reason to give them all the time I can. So in the end...” Lloyd stopped and brushed away a tear he knew Lilia hadn’t _meant_ to let slip. “It’s up to you, Lilia. I’d like to stay... but if you think it’ll hurt you in the long run...”

She surprised him.

She’d been doing a lot of that in the last few years, Lloyd mused.

But... the last thing he’d expected her to do was kiss him.

She was crying freely when she pulled away, but the laughter that accompanied the tears brought a smile to Lloyd’s face... and lightness to his heart.

“You’re so silly... I love you too, Lloyd Irving. And if Paul and I have to chase you down and _sit_ on you, you’re staying. You hear me?”

Lloyd couldn’t help it. He was laughing and crying right alongside her. “Yes, ma’am.”

Which, of course, prompted the usual response. “And don’t ever call me ‘ma’am’ again.”


	8. Aeros Lily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been twelve years since Lloyd became an angel, and the drawbacks of being unable to age are beginning to haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this story is split into seven arcs, and we've finally gotten through the first one. Yay! Now to move on toward the more tissue-worthy chapters.

The first death hit him like one of his father’s techs.

Probably because Presea hadn’t been _that_ old.

It was a solemn group that met on the top of the Lezareno building to watch as Presea was buried next to her sister. Lloyd hovered near the back with Zelos and Sheena, grateful that Colette seemed to be sticking close to Marta and Emil.

Presea had only looked to be in her late twenties. Even at her true age of forty-five, the death was sudden and unexpected, and had been blamed on the experimental key crest that had frozen her body at twelve years old for sixteen years.

Lloyd had the feeling he understood it, too.

Presea had been Rodyle’s attempt at creating his own Angelus Project, and though Lloyd and Presea had spoken often about her exsphere and key crest—they hadn’t dared remove it when it seemed to have fused with her body much like any Cruxis Crystal would— _especially_ after his own had evolved, they’d both known that where Kvar had succeeded, Rodyle never would.

He had a feeling, now, that Presea had known her death was coming. It had been in the little things; the way she had been visiting all of them as often as possible, the carefully-carved trinkets handed out every time at least half of them all found themselves in the same place...

Lloyd was going to miss her. Already, he was having trouble not looking around for her pink pigtails, a look she’d kept even into physical adulthood, if for no other reason than to make other people underestimate her. She’d always been a steady presence, solid and supportive as the earth below his feet, and now...

Now, she was gone.

It had been so sudden...

And, a part of Lloyd acknowledged, that made it easier. One day, she’d been there, the next, she’d been gone. His memories of her would always be of the strong young woman who’d been through hell and come out the other side stronger than he believed he would have in her position.

“...Lloyd?”

He blinked, looking away from the fountain at the center of the garden and reluctantly turning to face Colette.

Colette, who was looking at him like she’d seen a ghost. Something he pointed out.

“I hate to have to say it, but the only ghosts present are probably Presea and Alicia,” Zelos piped up, only to get knocked upside the head by Sheena.

Lloyd chuckled. “Hey, can’t blame him for speaking the truth.”

“Don’t make me hit you, too.”

“You... You haven’t aged...”

Lloyd glanced at Colette and nodded somewhat stiffly. Hm, the area had cleared out some...

He’d brought a flower to lay on Presea’s grave, a pretty pink flower she’d once told him was called an Aeros Lily. It had been a bit of a pain to track down, as many of them had been destroyed along with Ozette, but given the meanings of the flower and the way it matched her hair...

Well. Finding it hadn’t been an unnecessary use of time, really.

They’d agreed, ages ago, that taking off from the center of the garden was rude. But Regal and Presea had told them, almost in the same breath, that the angels were more than welcome to take to the air from the edges.

So Lloyd bid a quiet farewell to Presea, stood, and headed for the edge, passing Zelos as he went. “Heading home?”

Lloyd nodded. “Yeah. Lilia’s been ill the last few days; we’re not sure if it’s morning sickness or just a bug floating around.”

The look of shock on Colette’s face told Lloyd that she hadn’t kept up with his life at all. And, well... Maybe he’d regret it later, but right now?

“What? You’re the one who told me to move on.”

Not even Sheena could argue that he was being harsh as he left the main part of the garden. He was just pointing out what he felt was obvious.

Though from Zelos’ snort, the former Tethe’allan Chosen thought he was being too nice. “You’re lucky he can’t hold a grudge worth a shit.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes and jumped, wings forming behind him and catching the wind with ease. He _needed_ to go check on Lilia.

As much as a biological child would be a blessing... He wasn’t sure he wanted to lose Lilia to an unplanned pregnancy.

 


	9. Candles' Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of Presea's passing, Lloyd works through the night to prepare for a much happier occasion. His work is interrupted, however...

Lloyd glanced out the window as his candle flickered, and while a part of him was amused to find that he’d gone and burned the candle through the night again...

Well. He’d meant to be _home_ tonight.

Not that Dirk’s house was any less his home now that he was an adult with an adult adoptive son of his own.

An adoptive son about to be _married_.

Lloyd smiled to himself and leaned back, looking over the work in front of him. Two rings, carefully crafted and engraved, one each for Paul and Elise. And...

Lloyd Irving had once given the love of his life, Colette Brunel, a necklace for her birthday.

Two years later, she had given it back to him and broken his heart.

Now, as Lloyd was edging up on his thirty-seventh birthday, he was going to dare to give another woman another necklace...

The soft sound of footsteps drew him out of his musings, and he was on edge instantly, eyes locked on the door to what had once been his bedroom. Now, it was more of a workshop than anything else...

The door opened slowly, and the moment Lloyd saw the red hair, he relaxed.

Zelos.

...Zelos looked like shit.

He was on his feet and closing the distance in seconds. “What happened...?”

Almost-lifeless blue eyes rose to his face, blinked a few times, and then Zelos seemed to be _there_ again. “Lloyd...? I’m sorry, it’s late...”

Lloyd had a solid grip on his best friend and was half-dragging Zelos over to the couch that had replaced his bed before the redhead could continue. “What happened?” he asked again as he managed to get Zelos settled in.

“Seles.”

Lloyd froze halfway through reaching over to grab the glass of water he’d gotten and then never touched hours ago.

Seles.

Lloyd slumped onto the couch next to Zelos and wrapped the redhead up in a hug.

Seles was dead. Her body, wracked with illness after illness from childhood, had finally given out, and from the way Zelos was slowly unraveling in Lloyd’s arms, the funeral was over. Zelos wouldn’t be breaking down on his shoulder now if they still had to bury her...

He would have to go find an appropriate flower for when he visited her grave, Lloyd mused. Seles deserved that much from him. He’d never been so close to her as to know her favorites, though...

Hm... Maybe...

Zelos sniffed, clearly trying to get his sobbing back under control, and Lloyd held on tighter.

“It’s okay to cry,” he murmured.

Another sniff. “If you start spouting Colette’s ‘tears are the best medicine’ bull crap, I’m gonna have to punch you.”

Lloyd couldn’t help it. He chuckled a bit, even as he shook his head. “You know I broke down crying the day she left? Lilia and Paul dragged me home... took them an hour to calm me down enough to talk. And by then all I wanted to do was sleep.”

Zelos pulled away, wiping his eyes. “I knew this was coming...”

Lloyd reached out and gripped his friend’s shoulder firmly. “That doesn’t always make it easier. If Presea’s passing taught me anything, it’s that the sudden deaths are going to hurt less than the prolonged ones.”

Clearly hurt blue eyes rose to meet red-brown, and Lloyd offered up a weak smile. “Think about it. Years and years of good memories...”

Another wave of tears fell, and Zelos’ head fell again. “And just a few days of watching her suffer at the end... _That’s_ why she wanted me to leave...”

“Your sister had a big heart... just like her big brother.”

Zelos broke down into another round of sobs, and Lloyd pulled him into another embrace.

“...Thank you...”

 


	10. A Moment of Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colette gate-crashes to clear the air.

Lloyd smiled as he watched Paul and Elise share their first dance as a married couple. The rings he’d so painstakingly crafted for them glinted from their hands, and Paul hadn’t stopped grinning since Elise had said ‘I do.’

Red-brown eyes shifted over to the woman standing at his left, and Lloyd rubbed a circle on the back of Lilia’s hand with his thumb. “You sure we shouldn’t have done this, too?” he asked softly as the song came to a close.

Blue-gray eyes rose to meet his gaze, amusement pulling her lips into a smile. “I don’t think we need the whole pomp and ceremony. We’ve kept to our vows, privately as they may have been given.”

Lloyd shifted enough to kiss her, knowing full well that there was an audience.

Not that anyone from Iselia cared. Lloyd and Lilia had been a confirmed couple for over a decade now. No, they weren’t married, and never _would_ be, but Lloyd wasn’t going anywhere.

Not until Lilia was dead and gone. Paul as well, most likely.

Even now, when Paul now looked older than he did, Lloyd gladly embraced his adoptive son. “You’re not planning on running off on us, are you?” Paul asked as he pulled away. Lloyd gave him a wry smirk.

“Today? Not a chance.” Odd, why would he...

“Five o’clock,” Paul murmured, nodding behind him.

Lloyd shifted, looking over his shoulder but knowing full well who had shown up after all.

Colette had cut her hair. That was the first thing he realized. The second was that she was no longer wearing the robes of the Chosen of Regeneration.

Her work with the Church had either gone very well, or rather horribly.

He sighed, and turned back to Paul and nodded. “She won’t be a problem.” Hadn’t been since Presea’s death four years previously. Seemed the death of one of their companions had finally brought Colette back down to earth.

Lilia held onto his arm like one of the delicate maidens he knew she most certainly wasn’t. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into a dance?”

Lloyd chuckled and shifted, holding out a hand for her to take, even as Paul grinned and rejoined his new bride. Dancing wasn’t something he’d been all that good at when he’d actually _been_ the age he appeared now. Too many years of Zelos dragging him to parties had fixed _that_ problem, however, and he had no trouble whatsoever leading Lilia around in one of the simpler dances.

They’d only gotten the one when Colette managed to catch up to them, her suddenly bobbed blonde hair refusing to stay behind her ear after she pushed it back.

“Um... Could I...?”

All it took was a glance, so attuned to each other he and Lilia had become. She was stepping away as the next song started, and Lloyd held out a hand for Colette.

The first minute of the dance was spent in silence, Colette not quite looking at her feet, but not looking at him, either.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted, just as Lloyd was beginning to think she wasn’t going to speak up. “I... I never should have left. I’ve just been throwing myself into my work with the Church, and I didn’t even realize how much time had passed, and Presea...”

She stopped here, tears cascading down her cheeks, and Lloyd sighed, gently pulling her away from the makeshift dance floor. Lilia was talking to Paul and Elise, and though she glanced over at one point, she seemed to see that Colette needed support from _somewhere_.

Lloyd... would have to be that support. Because no one else was here. Genis and Raine hadn’t shown up, Zelos, Sheena, and Regal hadn’t been invited...

Well.

Neither had she, really. But this was Iselia, and in a tiny town like this, no one was really going to call her out for gate-crashing.

“I’m sorry... I... I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Lloyd crossed his arms. “You told me once, that my strength came from a big ball of kindness.”

“And kind people get hurt very easily. I remember... And that’s why... I wanted you to be able to live out your life.” Colette looked up from the ground, brushing her hair behind her ear again. “My body’s frozen. I... I’ll never be able to carry children, and... You know how people get when they see an older guy with a young girl. Even if I’m just a year younger than you, mentally...”

“Everyone in Iselia would have _known_ , Colette. No one would have cared,” Lloyd pointed out. “I’ve never gotten _any_ flak off the villagers for living with Lilia, even after the physical ten-year age gap started expanding. Sure, the occasional traveler wonders why the hell the man on her arm appears the same age as her _son_ , but the villagers tell them to mind their own business. I doubt things would have been much different if you’d stayed.”

She was silent for a while, wringing her hands. “What... what about when Lilia...?”

Lloyd closed his eyes. “She’s strong. She won’t be passing for another few decades yet. And even when she does... I’ve got all the time between now and then to make memories... And those memories will last for _centuries_. That’s all I can ask for.”

Blue once again rose to his face, though the tears had stopped falling. Colette sniffed a couple times, wiped her eyes, and then... smiled.

“...Thank you, Lloyd.”

“I’m not interrupting, am I?”

Colette looked past Lloyd as he turned, both of them smiling at Lilia.

“Not at all. I... I was just about to leave, really. Though...” Colette stopped, glanced at Lloyd, giggled, and let her smile become a full grin. “I should go congratulate your son, first.”

Lilia was smiling as Lloyd put an arm around her, Paul’s mother leaning into his side with a familiar ease. “Thank you, Colette.”

Colette nodded and wandered off, clearly making an effort to catch up to Paul and Elise, and Lloyd slipped his hand into his pocket. Now was as good a time as any, and really...

“Lilia?”

“Yes, Lloyd?”

“I made something for you.”

The look of wonder on Lilia’s face, and the understanding smile on Colette’s, made the necklace worth every minute it had taken to design and create.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta mentioned something about the comment Colette makes about being unable to carry children, and I told her this: Do not take anything Colette says as gospel. She's a horrible liar, yes, but she's also a horrible source of information. (See: Everyone thinking Tenebrae's name was actually Tenebie.) It doesn't come up again until Book 4 (because it's irrelevant until then), but it is just Mithos' selective breeding coming back to bite people in the asses.


	11. The Cake of Tomato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost forty years since the Journey of Regeneration. A lot has changed. But there are always some things that will never change.

It was just after what would have been his fifty-fifth birthday (had he still been celebrating it) when he found himself in Altamira, delivering an order for his adoptive father. There had been no reason not to head for the Lezareno Building, which was why he ended up knocking on the door to Regal’s office and opening it slowly once he’d been asked to enter.

Regal’s head rose from what looked like paperwork, and his bearing shifted into something much less tense when he recognized his visitor. “Ah, Lloyd!”

Lloyd stepped into the office, sheepish smile on his face. “Now’s not a bad time, is it?”

Regal chuckled. “I could use a distraction. I’m just… going over things I’ve gone over a dozen times in the past few months.”

It was sad that Lloyd didn’t have to ask to know that he really meant ‘making sure my affairs are set in order, _again_.’

“You’re not going to believe what Genis did to me last week,” he started instead, trying to act indignant and fully aware that he was failing.

Regal raised an eyebrow. “Given that he’s learned the less than subtle art of revenge-pranking, I’m not sure I want to know what you did to deserve it.”

“I didn’t do anything this time!” Lloyd said. “We figured out a few hours later that he was trying to get me back for something _Zelos_ did.” He stopped and tried not to grin. “Anyway, he made me a tomato cake.”

The way Regal blinked at him was telling.

“A… tomato… _cake_?”

Lloyd let the smile out. “You know, if it weren’t for the fact that tomatoes honestly burn the inside of my mouth, that thing would have been absolutely delicious. I didn’t know you could make tomatoes taste _sweet_. But, yeah, no, the familiar burning feeling got to me and I realized what it actually was. Didn’t stop me from eating my way through it, though. Just… smaller portions at a time.”

Regal was still giving him an incredulous look, and Lloyd pulled his wing pack out. He’d saved one last slice just for this, after all, once he’d found out Dirk needed to get a delivery to Altamira…

“Here.”

He sat it on the desk, and Regal eyed it.

“It looks like a strawberry cake.”

“That’s what Genis told me. Then I ate it. It was obvious with the first bite it _wasn’t_ , but it took me most of a slice this size to figure out what it actually was,” Lloyd replied.

And Regal finally suspended his disbelief enough to try it.

There was a moment of contemplative chewing, and then the pleasantly surprised hum that Lloyd had been expecting. “Interesting. Almost like carrot cake, but without the cinnamon.”

Lloyd grinned. “Yeah. I think I about gave Genis a heart attack when I said I actually _liked_ it.”

Regal chuckled. “You know, it sounds to me more like you have a sensitivity to one of the acids in tomatoes, not so much that you don’t actually like them.”

Lloyd shrugged. “This is basically the first time I’ve gotten to taste something even vaguely tomato without it immediately burning my mouth, so… yeah. Probably. But yeah, I thought I’d come share this with you. You and Genis were always the best chefs of the group.”

Regal’s smile was usually a tired, worn expression, but Lloyd counted it a personal victory every time the blue-haired—now silver-haired, really—man was able to aim it at him with more of the energy and enthusiasm Lloyd had known in the years after defeating Mithos.

“Master Regal…”

Regal turned to the man in the doorway, and Lloyd knew that look. Regal had somewhere he needed to be.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Lloyd said, forcing on a smile with an almost disgusting ease.

Once, he hadn’t been able to fake it this well. That... was decades ago.

Regal’s return smile was tired again, but knowing. “Thank you for coming, Lloyd.”

“Any time,” Lloyd replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genis came out of left field with this one, but I love it. And it stuck. So the tomato cake is now a recurring thing in the series, and Lloyd shocks the hell out of EVERYONE every time it pops up. XD So much fun.
> 
> On a less fun note... Farewell, Regal...


	12. Loss of a Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd knew this was coming. That didn't make it any easier to bear.

It was time.

Lloyd could feel it in his wings, odd as that sounded. But really, to so closely entwine himself to Lilia, to allow the mana connection between them to strengthen... Perhaps it wasn’t so strong as between an elven couple, but the connection was _there_ , Lloyd’s angelic mana bridging the gap that Lilia simply couldn’t.

It was flickering, now, even as Lloyd shot up into the air, away from a conflict that could have ended _very_ badly had he not stepped in to clear things up.

That connection had been growing weaker and weaker as Lilia did. A part of Lloyd wondered if maybe it had been a bad idea to forge it, only for the greater part to deny it.

And now... now, it was on the verge of breaking.

Lilia was out of time. And even flying at top speed through the higher parts of the atmosphere, easily outstripping any of the other angels, and putting even the rheairds to shame, he was barely going to make it in time.

He wanted to be there when she died. She’d been through so much, and pulled him through when all he’d wanted to do was give up. She’d been willing to do the very same thing he’d have been willing to go through with Colette, and stayed by his side even as she aged and he remained frozen...

He owed it to her to stay by _her_ side, now.

What would have been an eight-hour trip by rheaird was cut down to a six-hour flight, and Lloyd dropped out of the sky in a dive aimed straight for the center of Iselia.

Somehow, fifty years free of Desian activity had turned the little farming town into a city that was now larger than Triet.

Not that Triet had been all that large to begin with. Still, increased traffic had done wonders for Iselia... And still no one said anything about him and Lilia.

Well. Nothing negative, at least.

Paul was waiting for him when he reached the house, his adoptive son’s eyes downcast.

“Elise?”

“Pulling through. She’s nothing if not a fighter,” Paul replied. “But Mom...”

“I know.”

A sigh, and Paul shifted. “I need to go get the kids, make sure they’ve got their homework... Are you going to...?”

Lloyd nodded. “I’m going to go sit with her. Are they handling it alright?”

“As well as preteens handle anything they don’t want to hear,” Paul said. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Another nod, and Lloyd shifted, opening the door and stepping in. Lilia was asleep. Not gone, not just yet, but she was sleeping, and he wasn’t going to interrupt her rest right now.

Paul’s kids would probably do that soon enough, anyway...

So he settled into a chair next to her bed and pulled out a piece of wood he’d been carving, humming to himself as he worked. He’d only been at it for a few minutes before Lilia shifted, though.

“...Lloyd?”

He stopped, laid the carving on the table next to her water glass, and reached out, one hand wrapping around hers. “I told you I wanted to be here for the end.”

Lilia’s blue eyes, faded with age, were still just as warm with love as they’d been decades ago when he’d first started to see her as more than a friend. “I know. I’m glad you haven’t been around for most of this, though.”

He shifted, ever gentle with his touches. “A part of me wishes I had been, but...”

“You know it’s easier this way. We both do.”

Lloyd was crying, even as he smiled. “I know.”

“Paul?”

“Went to get the kids from school.”

“Mm...”

Lilia didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. Lloyd could _feel_ it.

They weren’t going to get here before she was gone.

“I love you, Lloyd Irving. Don’t you dare linger over my grave, you hear me?”

He couldn’t help the laughter, his hand cupping her cheek. “I love you, Lilia. I promise I won’t linger... But I won’t forget, either.”

She seemed amused, even as her eyes closed again. Lloyd traced the wrinkles on her face, every laugh line speaking of decades of happiness, and waited...

The door was just opening when he felt the weak mana tie break, and though Lloyd still couldn’t keep all four of the kids’ names straight, he was just as grateful to them as he had been to Paul and Lilia all those years ago when they crowded in around him and held on tight while he let the tears flow freely.

 


	13. Of Little Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd pays a visit to Yuan and Martel.

Lloyd Irving had a habit.

It wasn’t the best habit in the world, but he knew Zelos had worse habits.

And if racing through the upper atmosphere at ridiculous speeds just after waking up was what it took to keep himself sane... well. That was what he was going to do. Though...

He only took a moment to contemplate landing before dropping into a dive.

Thus was it that Lloyd landed in the clearing around the Yggdrasill with the ease of a veteran flier and shot a grin at Yuan. “Morning!”

The blue-haired half-elf shot him a _look_. “It’s going on sunset, Lloyd.”

Which just had Lloyd laughing. “Do I look like I care? I just woke up, like, twenty minutes ago. So far as I’m concerned, it’s morning enough.”

Yuan rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” A pause, during which Yuan was only _somewhat_ pretending to ignore him. “I noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time around Iselia.”

Lloyd shrugged. He’d had a feeling that would come up. Yuan didn’t approve of his approach to his potentially endless life, but then, the half-elf hadn’t approved of Colette’s initial approach, either. Lloyd wasn’t changing his tune now, though. And anyway... “A lot of the last few decades has just been working in the forge,” he pointed out. “Honestly, when I _started_ learning to smith, I was still human and needed some means to maintain my livelihood.” He stopped there and sighed. “Well. Mine and Lilia’s. And you know why I didn’t leave after...”

“I know,” Yuan said, voice soft. “For all that the two of you never married, you were very much Paul’s parents.” Lloyd nodded and then sighed, looking around a bit.

“I was actually supposed to be headed out to Mizuho this evening. Sheena said she needed me to come get something. Do you want me to grab something for you, since I’ll have to fly back this way to get home?” he asked.

Yuan was quiet for a few minutes. “No, thank you.”

Lloyd nodded and started walking away, only for another voice to ring out in the clearing.

“It’s been quiet without you, big brother.”

Lloyd turned and smiled at the green-haired spirit who’d appeared out of the trunk of the Yggdrasill. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Besides, you’ve been asleep most of the time,” he teased. Yuan snorted.

“Reminds me of someone else I know, before he became an angel,” the half-elf said. Amusement faded as Yuan gave Lloyd a worried look. “You’re not overworking yourself, are you? I may not get out much, but I know you’ve been running around shutting down conflicts when you can.”

Lloyd sighed. “No. Zelos likes playing the worrywart, too.”

“You shouldn’t stress yourself, big brother. Angel or not, you’ll just burn yourself out.” Martel stopped and got an almost mischievous look on her face. “And then where will I be with no one but Yuan to talk to?”

Lloyd snorted. “Funny, sis. Not that it would slow you down, any.”

“When did this start, anyway?” Yuan asked suddenly, looking baffled.

Lloyd looked up at him, confused. “What? The brother-sister thing?” Yuan nodded, and Lloyd glanced over at Martel, frowning. “Not totally sure. We’ve been at it for years now, though.”

Martel looked sheepish. “Well... ‘Father’ didn’t feel right, but you’re still sort of family because you germinated the Seed, so...”

Lloyd hadn’t realized Martel could turn that shade of red. As it was, he was pretty sure he was red, too.

Yuan chuckled. “Well, that’s fitting, I guess.”

“I’m sorry... I’ll stop if you want...”

Lloyd sighed. “Martel... If I’d had a problem with you calling me your older brother, I’d have said something earlier.” Wide, hopeful green eyes rose from the ground. “And besides... I kinda like having a little sister.”

Martel grinned, only for the expression to fade instantly, eyes locked on something behind Lloyd.

He turned just in time to catch Colette, clearly upset. Red, puffy eyes and tear tracks made it obvious the blonde had been crying, and she held onto Lloyd like a lifeline, like she _hadn’t_ done for decades.

“Colette?”

“It’s Marta! She’s... She’s gone!”

Oh.

Lloyd closed his eyes and held Colette tight as her tears redoubled, silently offering support to the woman who’d just lost her sister in all but blood. The two of them might still be a bit iffy to each other, but he wasn’t going to abandon her right now.

Not when he knew his own brother in spirit, Emil, would no doubt be following Marta shortly.

‘Farewell, Marta...’


	14. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd is avoiding Palmacosta, but his excuse is becoming less an excuse and more an actual worry. Thankfully, Dirk's on hand to relieve a couple of the other worries.

Lloyd flew through the air above Iselia, eyes scanning the plains and forest around the town. Part of him was avoiding Palmacosta, simply because he didn’t want to see Emil in the last few hours of the man’s life...

But a part of him knew the real reason why he was here.

It wasn’t about avoiding Emil. It wasn’t about searching for Noishe—though that was his excuse to anyone who asked, and he was sticking to it—and really, with all he’d been through...

One would think he’d have an easier time keeping his promise to Lilia.

Hm, he should probably check in on the kids. Sam, Alex, Bree, Bess. Those where their names, he’d finally gotten them memorized, but...

He sighed, spotted movement out by the house where he’d grown up with Dirk, and dropped into a loose dive.

Not so tight that he’d drop straight down, but no longer a pure glide, either...

Dirk looked up as Lloyd landed nearby, the Angel glancing at the wood the dwarf was hauling in.

“You want some help?” he asked, already moving to pick up a part of the firewood, at least.

Dirk smiled as he started collecting an armful. “Thanks, lad.”

“Any time, Dad. You know you can ask me for help whenever.”

“Aye, but yeh’ve got yer own work ta be doin’ now. I’m not going ta get in yer way.”

Lloyd sighed, took the armful of firewood over to the shed, and put it away on the stack with a familiar ease. Two trips, three...

Dirk grunted to himself as he dropped the final load and looked over the stack, clearly pleased. “Should last me a while... Now then. What’re yeh doin’ all the way out here? I’da thought yeh’d be in Palmacosta. I know Colette said Emil was failin’...”

Lloyd shook his head. “That’s just it, Dad. I... I’ve visited once since Marta’s death... Emil’s already gone, really. Sticking around now is just begging to get hurt worse than necessary.”

And... _damn_ did that sound cold of him. But...

“Yeh’ve grown up, lad.”

He glanced back at Dirk, somewhat surprised to see _pride_ in his adoptive father’s expression. “Dad?”

“Havin’ ta watch the people around yeh grow old and leave this world when yeh know yer own time ain’t comin’ for a long while yet... It’s never easy. But it’s not impossible ta live with it, either. An’ yeh’ve figured the trick to it out on yer own,” Dirk said.

“Enjoy the time you have, make good memories... because when they’re gone, it’s the memories you’ve kept of them that are important,” Lloyd murmured.

Something inside him settled a bit. Something he hadn’t even realized _needed_ to settle.

“Dad... thanks.”

“Yeh’re welcome. But yeh never answered my question. What’re yeh doin’ here?”

Lloyd sighed and looked around. “I’m starting to wonder if my excuse is becoming less and less an excuse and more an actual answer. I can’t seem to find Noishe _anywhere_.”

A brief expression of confusion crossed Dirk’s face, then surprise, then concern. “Now that yeh mention it, I ain’t seen him... Not for _months_ , at least. It’s not unusual for him ta wander off, but I didn’t expect him ta vanish like this.”

“You know I haven’t seen him in _years_? Not since before Lilia died,” Lloyd admitted. “And... I can’t even remember the last time before that. Every time I go looking for him, he seems to be avoiding me or something. Which is... weird.Even for him.”

Dirk nodded. “Yer right. He used ta come an’ go as he pleased, but... Well. I’ll keep an eye out for him. And _you_ take care of yerself, ya hear? Don’t be gettin’ in over yer head.”

Lloyd sighed a bit, but chose not to speak up.

Why was everyone such a worrywart all of a sudden? Zelos, and Raine, and Genis, and Yuan... Now Dirk, too?

“Lloyd, I’m not trying ta be patronizing. I’m just worried about yeh. I know yer friends are startin’ ta leave this world...”

And... he supposed it made sense that Dirk would be worried. All of his human friends were either dead, or dying. Thankfully from old age. If he’d had to see them die before their times, well...

He was having a hard enough time handling Presea and Seles. No, he hadn’t been nearly as close to Zelos’ sister as he had to Presea, but the spunky half-elf had been a good friend whenever he’d been in Meltokio.

His greatest regret, in hindsight, was not spending more time with her.

But... he had a lot of good memories, anyway.

That would have to be enough. As it would with everyone else.

“I know, Dad. I know.”

Even Dirk would be gone, eventually.


	15. Fading Centurions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emil's mana body is no more. Nor are many of the Centurions. But some things can be postponed. Others cannot.

It was an empty grave that Lloyd knelt before exactly sixty-seven years after first meeting the man whose name adorned the headstone.

Emil Castagnier was dead, his mana construct body returned to Ratatosk and his stone placed right next to Marta’s.

Remembering that first meeting, that was less a meeting and more a depressingly one-sided battle, Lloyd couldn’t help but smile.

Emil had come a long way from the awkward boy who thought Lloyd had killed his parents.

“I was not expecting to see you here so late.”

Lloyd shifted, looking over his shoulder and smiling. “Hey, Tenebrae.”

The Centurion of darkness moved like any big cat, even when sitting down, and Lloyd idly mused that he never _had_ seen the rest of them.

Aqua was some cross between a fish, a cat, and a human, though she’d admitted that she’d started out less humanoid. Tenebrae was some odd hybrid of a dog and a cat. Solum was a frog. And Lloyd had it on good authority (here meaning Richter) that Ratatosk’s base form was that of a squirrel.

He’d never seen the rest, never had a chance. He didn’t understand what had happened, but he knew that Aqua, Tenebrae, and Solum were the only Centurions still active.

“I suppose I ought to be going,” Tenebrae said after a while.

Lloyd got the feeling he didn’t mean back to Ratatosk.

“You’re fading next, aren’t you? Like the other Centurions.”

Tenebrae hummed. “The Knights are bound to Ratatosk through a Centurion anchor. Though it’s possible for all eight Centurions to anchor Knights at the same time, the most I’ve ever seen active at any given time is five.” Tenebrae gave him an amused look. “Three of those, you’ve met, and a fourth, you’ve met the echo of.” So that had been during the Kharlan War... “Regardless... With Lord Emil dead, my purpose in this world is ended. Aqua remains for much the same reason.”

“And Solum?”

“Solum remains so that Ratatosk may see Richter properly buried before he, too, fades from this realm.”

Lloyd bowed his head. He’d been afraid that Tenebrae was going to say something like that. It was obvious from the way Richter and Ratatosk had spoken the last few times he’d visited that Ratatosk’s days were numbered.

Oh, they might still be numbered well in the thousands, but that didn’t change the fact that they _were_ numbered.

“Why?” Lloyd asked softly.

Tenebrae didn’t respond immediately, tail waving back and forth, eyes somewhat misted over even though they appeared locked on the gravestone in front of them. “Lord Ratatosk was the guardian of the Giant Kharlan Tree, and is tied to its unique mana to survive. In the absence of the tree, he relies on the remaining mana from it to support his existence. Because the Yggdrasill is the Spirit Martel’s domain, the mana it produces is not compatible.”

“So he’s dying.”

“Yes. Aqua and Solum will continue to pull the mana from the old regime through the Ginnungagap, keeping it from being spent by the humans, elves, and half-elves, while also prolonging Lord Ratatosk’s life. But it will not last indefinitely. His claim that it would take him one thousand years to remove mana from all living things and recreate the seal between Aselia and Niflheim was a lie—that thousand years is, roughly, how long he has left to live. They will be finished around the second passing of Derris-Kharlan,” the Centurion replied.

Lloyd sighed. “I’m guessing Richter’s figured it out by now. Hard to hide anything from him, I swear...”

Tenebrae chuckled. “Indeed. Well. Are you going to hover over Lord Emil’s grave all night, or are you going to go deal with those skirmishes that Solum likes complaining about?”

Lloyd blinked, then frowned. A glance at Tenebrae—amusement always _was_ the black cat’s default expression—and then he stood up. “Where?”

“North of Sybak. Something about half-elves and Ozette. I never bother to listen for long; Solum can go on for hours complaining about humans and their ability to fight each other seemingly indefinitely.”

Lloyd knew of the area, and knew why it was a problem, too. While Sybak, once one of the worst places to be a half-elf, was now a veritable haven for them, Ozette still bore a grudge against those of mixed blood. There had been a lot of talk of trying to sneak in and cause damage.

He sighed, blue-green light suddenly flooding the graveyard, even as he took a few steps back and bowed his head.

“No rest for the weary, huh, Emil? ...Goodbye, little brother.”

One, two, three powerful flaps of his wings, and Lloyd was far enough above the graveyard that he could only _barely_ make out Tenebrae in front of Emil’s grave.

And then, the most surprising thing...

Tenebrae ran through the air, paws striking puffs of shadow as the Centurion raced after him, and Lloyd stared for a moment. “I thought...”

“Lord Ratatosk has enough mana to last him most of the millennium,” Tenebrae said. “And we Centurions can use the Yggdrasill’s mana if it is siphoned through our monster servants. I suppose someone ought to be keeping you on your toes.”

It was all he could do not to simply _stare_.

Then again... This _was_ Tenebrae. Unpredictable when it suited him, and stubborn as a rock more often than not.

He chuckled a bit and then shot the Centurion a challenging grin. “Think you can keep up?”

Tenebrae’s snort said he did. Lloyd wanted to prove him wrong.

 


	16. Midnight Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd is awoken in the middle of the night.

Lloyd didn’t need to ask what had happened the night that Zelos slipped into his room at the darkest hour possible, kicked off his boots, and slipped into the bed next to him as if he did it all the time.

Red hair spilled over Lloyd’s shoulder, and he felt Zelos holding onto him like he was the redhead’s last lifeline. Something the man had only done once in the past, and that... that had been after Seles had died.

Lloyd didn’t say a word, didn’t indicate that he’d been woken by Zelos opening the front door.

He simply laid there, a silent and willing shoulder for Zelos to cry himself to sleep on, because Lloyd knew he’d done the same thing when Lilia had passed away.

So long had Zelos spent at her bedside, so long spent watching her simply wasting away...

Sheena Fujibayashi was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the fact that this is less than 150 words, I'll put up two this round.


	17. Turning of the Century

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It only took a century for Lloyd to grow up enough to get teased about it.

Lloyd looked over the land he’d purchased with the experienced eye of a craftsman. Building houses had never been his forte, but he’d helped often enough, and he _knew_ what he needed.

So, the only thing truly left for him to do was to figure out where he’d build, and get to work. He had land—outside of Luin, not so close that midnight metalwork would wake anyone up, but not so far that it would be a chore to get to from town—he had a basic idea of what he needed to do, and he had the skills he needed.

It was slow going, anyway. He regularly had to leave his construction site to go deal with the usual petty conflicts and minor skirmishes he, Zelos, Colette, and Genis were still tracking down and ending. Perhaps the only thing keeping him going at times was the fact that he could _see_ the house and attached workshop and forge starting to take shape.

Not having to sleep was a blessing at times, especially when one or both of the moons were full, or nearing it. The light from the moons and his enhanced eyesight made it easy enough for him to get work done on his new home.

He missed Iselia at times, traveling the world and calming conflicts before they could escalate into all-out war.

But Iselia reminded him far too strongly of Colette. Of Lilia, and Paul—bless the man’s soul, even as his body now rested in a grave beside his mother’s—and everything he had before the Regeneration.

He could only stand to visit anymore. The memories were too painful, and Colette too distant to attempt to reconcile with.

Though... that might have been less because she was avoiding him, and more because they’d agreed to hold to an old elven tradition. It was unusual, but not unheard of for an elf to remarry if their significant other had died, but in those cases, the widow always remained such for a full century before courting again.

It _hurt_ not to be able to reconnect with Colette, but... For all that he and Lilia had never worn rings, or been wed before the church, they’d had their vows. Promises spoken softly, fearfully, the very night that Lloyd had told Lilia he would never be growing old with her.

His relationship with Lilia had been anything _but_ traditional, and the effects were long-reaching.

And that... _That_ was why he stood there now, building a home and place of work outside Luin.

This was going to be his escape from Iselia. And... maybe, one day, it would be more than that. It would actually be _home_ , not just the place he built to get away from the bad memories.

It wasn’t until he found himself sanding down some of the rough edges of the wood that he realized how much time he’d spent on this project... or how close he was to finished.

Russet eyes looked around the unfurnished house, easily seeing where the furniture would be going. Certainly, he’d have to make most of it himself, but it wouldn’t be much of a problem. He was _used_ to doing furniture, really. And for once...

For once, he mused as he sat in a corner and looked around, he’d be able to make it the way _he_ wanted it, not the way the client wanted it.

A knock on the door startled him, and he leapt to his feet, walking over and opening it curiously. Who would be...?

A shock of silver-white hair met his eyes, the young man outside the door a bare three inches shorter than him, blue-violet eyes still wide with a childlike curiosity.

Lloyd grinned. “Genis!”

“Are you _ever_ gonna finish this thing? I mean, come on, you’ve only been working on it... what, three months?” the half-elf teased.

Lloyd snickered and stepped to the side, the silent invitation one Genis took without a word. “Just think. If I had to sleep, it would be taking me a lot longer. But I’d also be _done_ already if I didn’t have to keep running off to deal with _stuff_.”

Blue eyes rolled in their sockets, even though Genis was still grinning. “So, you planning on having a housewarming party once you’ve got it finished?”

Lloyd snorted. “Like I’ll have much time for that.” The mirth faded, and he sighed. “I need to get the workshop and forge finished before I worry too much about furnishing the place. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m getting tight on gald.”

“Do you need to borrow any? I’ve got plenty stashed away,” Genis asked.

Lloyd shook his head. “Nah. The nice thing about the Irving name is that everyone’s always looking for our services. But Dad specializes in woodwork. He might have taught me all he knows about smithing, but he didn’t teach me everything _I_ know. I’ve taught myself a lot, and that’ll give me something that I can offer without taking away too many of Dad’s clients.”

Genis smiled. “Look at you, sounding all grown up.”

He snorted. “I’m...” He stopped, blinked, counted, and then frowned. “Huh. I missed my hundredth birthday.”

Genis paused, seemed to count, and then must have come up with the same numbers Lloyd had, because he looked surprised. “We did! You turned a hundred three weeks ago!”

Lloyd laughed a bit. “Well, guess I _have_ to have that housewarming party now. Gotta make up for the missed birthday party.”

They’d stopped celebrating birthdays, for the most part, but Zelos had insisted, within weeks of Sheena’s passing, that they all celebrate their one hundredth.

Genis smiled. “So... Anything I can help with in here?”

Lloyd chuckled and picked up another square of sandpaper. “I’m not fighting with furniture until I’ve got all the rough edges sanded down. Sure you don’t want to bow out while you can?”

“Do I _look_ like I have something better to do? Gimme that!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! That's a wrap for the second arc of this story.  
> My beta's only gotten up through the fourth arc back to me, so while I'd like to say you'll get up through the first few parts of the sixth arc by the end of August... well, no promises. :/


	18. Dirk Pays a Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk's getting up in his years.

The heat of the forge was a welcome friend after the last few months spent racing through the skies from Flanoir to Meltokio and back again. So, too, was the ring of metal on metal, the rhythm lulling Lloyd nearly into a trance.

But for all the time he spent in the skies, for all the hours spent trying to keep the fragile peace intact, Lloyd Irving spent too much time in the forge to have lost his touch for smithing. A skill he knew was going to come in _very_ handy in another century, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

The high-pitched ringing of a bell cut through the sounds of the forge, a sound Lloyd had grown used to listening for, and it only took a glance to spot the short, stout man standing by the door.

He offered up a small smile, dropped the would-be plate of armor into the barrel, and walked over.

“Morning, Dad.”

“Good morning, lad. Didn’t expect to see yeh up at this hour, but...”

Lloyd grimaced and glanced toward the east, where the city of Luin was slowly expanding outward. “There’s a reason I’m this far out from town, Dad. I work some strange hours sometimes. Last thing I need is to wake the entire city if I happen to be forging in the middle of the night,” he replied. “Speaking of being far out... I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen you this far from Iselia.”

“Heh. Well. I wasn’t plannin’ on the trip, but... I made up mah mind a few months ago, already got most everthin’ packed up... I didn’ want... to go back ta Vraelheim without tellin’ yeh.”

It took a few minutes for Lloyd’s brain to catch up to his ears.

“You’re going back to the dwarven city?”

Dirk nodded. “I’m gettin’ old, lad. Don’t think I need ta tell yeh that. And I’ve lived above the ground most ‘o my life... Think I’d better end it where I started, though.”

Lloyd couldn’t argue with that. He really couldn’t.

Which was why he dropped to his knees, wrapped his adoptive father in a tight hug, and then gave Dirk his best ‘hold your horses’ look when the dwarf moved to leave. “I guess the least I can do is help you move.”

Dirk blinked at him, oddly surprised, and Lloyd snorted. “Give me a couple days to finish the order I’m working on and get everything locked up tight, and we can go. Hate to have to say it, but I’d rather you get there than get jumped by monsters on your way back to Iselia.”

The dwarf was silent a moment longer, before he started chuckling. “A’right, lad. I can do that. And, well... Might as well show ya the way ta the city now. If I know you, yer gonna be lookin’ fer it ta come visit.” Dirk paused here and snorted. “Might get the guards off yer case while I’m still spry enough ta do it.”

Lloyd laughed, unable to help himself. That was certainly true enough.

 


	19. The Dwarven City of Vraelheim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Tenebrae gets poked fun at and everyone else gets confused.

“You know I wouldn’t have asked you to—“

“Lloyd, if I was _truly_ opposed to hauling this cart, I would never have offered to do so,” Tenebrae cut him off.

Dirk chuckled. “I think yer outspoken, lad. Might as well give it a rest.”

Lloyd sighed, eyeing up the cart Tenebrae was hauling once again, but not speaking up. If Tenebrae was sure he was fine... But that harness had been made for _Noishe_ , who was a lot bulkier than Tenebrae was, and taller, and...

“Lloyd...”

He sighed, shook his head, and refocused on Dirk. Tenebrae was going to start smacking him with his tail if he didn’t stop worrying about the cart, and Dirk had said they were getting close to the entrance to the city...

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but as they rounded what Dirk had grunted should be the final bend, he had to admit that a massive stone door wasn’t it.

Dirk stopped and looked over the door, then the floor. Which was when Lloyd started to noticed the designs and runes that seemed to cover most of the cavern.

“Damn. How long did all this take to carve?” he muttered, impressed.

“If it’d been done all at once, maybe a decade,” Dirk replied. “But the work was spread out over millennia, generations and generations of stonemasons leaving their marks and improving the magic that protects the city. Dwarf magic don’t work like elf magic, see?”

“It’s what made the key crests work properly, wasn’t it?”

“Aye. I never tried ta teach yeh, but I think yeh may have picked up some o’ that magic on yer own. How, I’ve no idea, but it’s the only thing that could explain... well. No better way ta find out.” Lloyd tilted his head to the side in confusion. It had been a while since Dirk had successfully baffled him over something. “Over here, lad. An’ I really hope the gate guards are doin’ what they’re supposed to an’ stayin’ out o’ it until the doors open.”

Lloyd glanced at an equally bemused Tenebrae before stepping across the rather intricately-carved floor to stand next to his adoptive father. “So...”

Dirk bent over and pointed. “Yeh see that circle there? An’ the runes around it?”

Lloyd looked, staring at it blankly for a few moments before his somewhat distracted mind managed to translate the sentence around the circle.

_‘A craftsman’s greatest gift lies upon the stone before our city.’_

“It’s a riddle.”

“Aye.”

And...

A craftsman’s greatest gift was his _hands_.

Lloyd pulled his glove off and placed his hand on the stone, within the circle of runes.

The light started from the first rune, followed its way around the sentence until the entire circle was lit, and then with a great rumble that hurt Lloyd’s unprepared ears and made the ground beneath them tremble, the massive stone doors of Vraelheim opened.

“’at’s what I thought.”

Lloyd looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Prob’ly somethin’ along the lines o’ ‘no human should be able ta open the gates’, eh Dirk?”

The new voice startled him, but really, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Dirk _had_ mentioned something about gate guards.

Aside from build, the dwarf now standing in the doorway looked nothing like Dirk. Black hair where his father’s had faded from orange to gray, pale skin...

“Andven! What’re yeh doin’ all the way up here? I thought yeh were in Hviturlind?”

The younger dwarf chuckled. “Oh, aye, but my lass wanted ta come home, so who am I ta keep her away?” Bright eyes shifted back to Lloyd. “A’right, come on lad. Best get in, then we can figure out how yeh opened the door.”

Lloyd nodded, glanced back at Tenebrae, and stood, walking forward with Dirk even as the doors slowly closed again behind them.

“Where’ve yeh been all this time, anyway? Didn’ think anyone’d be able ta stay aboveground for two centuries, but damn if it didn’ start the rumors flyin’...”

Dirk snorted. “ _Flyin’_ is appropriate,” he muttered, shooting Lloyd a familiar, teasing grin.

An exchange that did _not_ go unnoticed by Andven.

Though they made it another hundred yards down the tunnel before the dwarf simply stopped, and _stared_.

Lloyd knew that look. That was the look of anyone who finally recognized the name ‘Lloyd Irving’ as the companion of the Chosen of Regeneration.

“Irving.”

“Aye, that’s our name. Don’t wear it out.”

Lloyd snorted. “Couple centuries late for _that_ , Dad.”

“Eh, a man can hope.”

“Lloyd Irving is your _son_?!”

“Adoptive. That he still calls me ‘Dad’ after all these years, an’ after meeting his birth father... Well. It’s an honor I’m not goin’ ta squander,” Dirk replied.

Another long few moments passed, Andven looking over Lloyd in what was clearly a new light.

Suddenly, Lloyd had the feeling he was missing something. Though, he’d have to save asking about it for later, when they weren’t under scrutiny by a stranger.

Well, stranger to him. Seemed Dirk at least knew Andven, even if they weren’t extremely familiar.

Speaking of Andven, the younger dwarf finally managed to shake off the shock. “Right. Well, _that_ explains a lot. Anyway, not far now ta the city.” He turned and continued down the tunnel... and _down_ was correct, if Lloyd was reading this gentle slope correctly.

Andven hadn’t been lying. It was but a few minutes’ walk until the tunnel suddenly expanded outward, the lighting shifting from simple torchlight to something that was definitely... _else_.

They were deep inside the mountain range, Lloyd realized. Had to be, because the city sprawled out below and around them, while not the size of Meltokio, matched at least Palmacosta.

And Palmacosta had been big the first time he’d visited as a _teenager_.

“That way,” Andven said, pointing off to their left along the path. A path each to the left and right, and more paths a ways down that branched up and down.

Vraelheim was a maze, Lloyd mused as he, Tenebrae, and Dirk followed the black-haired dwarf. And yet...

“Would I get in trouble if I got myself lost in here?” he asked as they neared what looked distinctly like a residential sector.

Andven hummed. “Best not do that jus’ yet, lad...” A pause, and a confused look. “Though, for all that yeh look younger than me, yer older, aren’t yeh?”

Lloyd shrugged. “Just shy of two-twenty.”

“Aye, definitely older.”

Dirk chuckled. “He could put the younger metalsmiths ta shame, too. Lad’s got a touch fer metals. Not so much for wood. Never did try to teach him any stonework, either.”

Lloyd sighed. “Not that I was ever that interested. Let’s be honest, the main reason I took up the blacksmithing was to help support Lilia.”

“Yeh got a lass?”

“Had. She passed over a century ago.”

“That probably should’ve been my first hint, too,” Dirk piped up. “Dwarves don’t marry. What yeh had with her was the same sort of agreement a dwarven couple would enter.”

“So, let me get this straight.”

“Balkor’s hammer! That thing talks?!”

Lloyd blinked, glanced at Dirk, and then promptly busted up laughing along with his adoptive father.

“Well, excuse _me_ ,” Tenebrae muttered crossly. Lloyd couldn’t help it, he reached over to pat Tenebrae’s head.

“That was perfect.”

“I hate all three of you.”

“Nah, you’re just annoyed at not getting the last laugh.”

“I beg to differ...”

“Denied.”

Dirk coughed a couple times. “Lads. ‘at’s enough. Now where were yeh goin’ with that, Tenebrae?”

The Centurion shook himself. “Right. So then, you’re implying that many of the mannerisms that set Lloyd apart are actually dwarven in nature?”

“A number of them, yes. There’s a few I know he picked up from his birth father while they traveled, but...”

“ _Those_ , I noticed some time ago. Relics of an older age, I fear.”

“Not as old as _your_ habits, though,” Lloyd pointed out.

“Yes, yes, I’m an old man, we established that centuries ago. Now then, can we get moving?”

He couldn’t help but smirk. “So _now_ you admit that the cart’s annoying.”

“I’m not...” Tenebrae stopped, huffed, and shook his head. “I think I’m quite done with this conversation, thank you.”

Andven chuckled a bit, clearly amused by the Centurion’s antics. “We’re not far. Just this way, and tucked in the back a little. Guess Darria figured yeh’d like yer privacy.”

“Aye. Even aboveground, I still lived a ways off from the rest o’ the town.”

“And then we take the lad up ta Morag, see if he can shed a little light on his dwarven mana,” Andven added.

Lloyd nodded. That would be nice. But, first things first—he needed to see Dirk settled in.

 


	20. A Dwarven Blacksmith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd thinks about everything that's happened since taking Dirk home.

The dwarves couldn’t figure out why or how Lloyd could use their magic. Not one of them, not after months and _years_ of puzzling over it, trying to figure out how the human boy’s mana was _different_.

It wasn’t, Lloyd had found out. Even though the only other mana he could use was angelic, even though he’d only _just_ started consciously using the dwarven mana at his disposal, his mana felt, to any dwarf, as it if were another dwarf using it.

So rather than continuing to beat their heads against a wall, they’d settled for teaching Lloyd to _use_ that mana.

Dwarven mana was _nothing_ like elven mana. It wasn’t mana borne upon the air, upon the very world around them, only a small portion to be called their own.

All of the mana he would ever have was _his_ , a tiny wellspring within himself that filled and flowed faster, _larger_ , the longer he continued to exercise this talent.

He’d been using it unconsciously for decades when smithing, a fellow blacksmith named Hogun had told him after a few days of sharing a forge and learning the basics of how dwarven mana was used in smithing. The magic was what helped his hammer fall exactly where he wanted it to, what told him where in the metal was still weak, what kept the metal hot and workable longer than it normally would have been.

Hogun had been impressed. Even told again and again that he wasn’t a child, even by dwarven standards, even told how long he’d been doing metalwork, the dwarven smith had been impressed.

Lloyd had found himself apprenticed under the master blacksmith within a month of escorting Dirk to Vraelheim.

And, he mused as he lifted another piece of armor for finishing, it had paid off.

He could feel it, the thrum of the dwarven mana within him. It wasn’t quite the sort of mana he was used to. Something just to this side of it, really. Hogun had warned him the day he’d released Lloyd from his apprenticeship, it would just keep growing, too. That was why most Masters were well into their second century by the time they made the mark. As the power at their core increased, they were able to use it to greater effect.

Dirk had watched him learning, watched him interacting with the rest of the dwarven city, and after a time, had pulled him aside, apologizing for not bringing Lloyd to the city sooner.

That had been when Lloyd had finally noticed that he’d been underground for almost a decade, and had promptly made his excuses and fled the city, taking to the sky to shake off the sudden claustrophobia that had set in.

Which was a part of why Lloyd was in the middle of a long haul, finally home—after doing some repairs; Luin’s outskirts weren’t the friendliest place to leave a house, though it was obvious _someone_ had been by in the last few years—and filling a few dozen orders he’d picked up from various places around the world.

The problem with long hauls, though, as Genis and Raine and later even Zelos pointed out, was that they did tend to lull him into a near-trance.

And as he carefully put the most recent piece of armor into its spot on the long work table next to him, he discovered that this time was no different.

“Finally crawled back out of your hole, huh?”

Lloyd paused, glanced up, and smiled, unable to help being amused. “’Hole’ is oddly appropriate, though a rather poor descriptor,” he replied.

“Hey, big words!”

He snorted. “Come on, Genis. I think we established _ages_ ago that I’m not exactly a stupid kid anymore.”

The half-elf just chuckled. “Maybe, but you still do some stupid stuff. Like, oh, I don’t know. Vanishing off the face of the earth for twelve years? Where’ve you _been_?”

Lloyd smirked. “In a hole.With a massive, intricate stone door between it and the outside world. A stone door that, by all accounts, I shouldn’t have been able to open, but I _did_.”

Genis looked confused, and he couldn’t help the laughter, quite amused at his friend’s confusion.

“The dwarves.”

All at once, understanding replaced the confusion, and Genis smiled a bit. “I see. I’d heard Dirk was planning to head back. He took you with him?”

“More like I told him I was tagging along and then Tenebrae added himself to the mess, but... yeah,” Lloyd replied. “I think Dad kinda _wanted_ me to go, too, especially with what we found out. Did you know dwarves have their own magic?”

Genis nodded. “Yeah. Presea told me a bit about what Altessa told _her_. It wasn’t much, though. Something about internalized mana that wasn’t standard mana.”

Lloyd shrugged. “That’s the gist of it, or the source, at least. Dwarven magic isn’t _anything_ like elven magic, and shouldn’t be possible for anyone who _isn’t_ a dwarf to use. So... basically, we have no idea how I can.”

Genis’ eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “You mean, you can actually...?”

“Remember the confusion on Altessa’s face when we went back a few months after the Regeneration to make sure Presea’s key crest would work right?”

“Yeah. He gave you a really funny look, then told Presea that he didn’t need to do much to finish it off, even though you told us again and again during the journey that you couldn’t make a key crest from scratch if you _tried_.”

Lloyd nodded. “Apparently, the main reason why the _dwarves_ had to make the key crests is due to the fact that they only work _because_ of the dwarven mana used to create them. The fact that Dad and I can prove I had it that young means we can’t even pass it off as some strange mutation brought about by my Cruxis Crystal.”

Genis was silent for a while, clearly considering something, even though at a glance, he appeared to have totally zoned out.

“Actually... it _might_ be.”

“Huh?”

“Well, think about it. Your exsphere was Kvar’s Angelus Project. Who _knows_ what he did to make it react with your mother’s body the way it did. And why only Anna? Why not dozens or hundreds of others?”

“Something about my mother’s mana signature was different,” Lloyd said. “The project research Yuan salvaged from the Remote Island Ranch said that much, at least.”

“Exactly. And she had that exsphere on her skin, no _proper_ key crest, for how many years? Including _while_ she was pregnant with you?”

It was obvious, now, the leap of logic Genis had taken. And Lloyd couldn’t help but tuck his chin in and look down at the glittering gem still sitting right there under his collarbone.

“I guess that makes sense. It’s all we really have to go on, anyway, even if it’s only a theory,” he said. Then he shook his head. “Anyway...” A glance out the window confirmed that he was right, and it _was_ pre-dawn. “What are you doing out and about at this hour?”

Genis lifted a key, looking sheepish. “Um... I’ve kinda been using the house as a waypoint when I’m travelling. Crashed in the guest bedroom yesterday afternoon, woke up about an hour ago when I realized what all the noises I was hearing meant.”

Lloyd couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I _did_ give you a key. You know you don’t have to be so embarrassed; I actually _completely_ lost track of the time while underground. So really, I’m glad _someone_ got some use out of the place.” He stood up, stretched, and then glanced out the window again. Dawn was lighting up the eastern sky, slowly but surely, and he smiled. “What do you say we get some food, and then I’ll tell you all about what I’ve been up to the last few years?”

Genis smiled. “Sounds good. I’ve got a lot to tell you, too.”

 


	21. The Curse of the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuan's days have been numbered for a long time.

If there was one thing Lloyd was never going to stop loving, it was the ability to soar through the skies at ridiculously high speeds. The wind whipping his face, the feeling of the air itself holding him up, a solid weight under his wings, the landscape flashing by below...

Tenebrae could keep up only by virtue of expending large amounts of mana, something he was trying his best _not_ to do, which was why, more often than not, he’d simply meet Lloyd wherever the angel was headed.

Except on days like these, where Lloyd was racing the wind, and Tenebrae was annoying Richter and Ratatosk.

Hm... It had been a couple years since he’d visited Yuan and Martel.

The moment he’d fully processed that thought, though, he flinched. The last time he’d so casually commented about it being _years_ since he’d seen someone (namely, Zelos), Colette had blown up at him for not staying in contact. They all seemed determined to pretend his decade-long stay with the dwarves had also meant a communication blackout, which baffled Lloyd to no end.

Colette, Zelos, and Genis all got mad if he didn’t see them at _least_ once a year, but Raine was looking at it the same way he was.

They were there, they weren’t going anywhere unless they did something _stupid_ , and that wasn’t changing for centuries. They each had their own lives... So what did it matter if a couple years passed between visits?

Still, the last thing he wanted to do was make Colette upset again, and just when they were starting to reconnect.

And, it _had_ been a while since he’d been by the Yggdrasill. The least he could do was stop in and say hello.

So as he neared the giant tree—boy was it _big_ now—he dropped lower, speed dropping from ‘too fast for humans to see’ to something even Colette, the slowest in the air, could keep up with.

It was with a smile that he dropped into a dive, wings tucked against his body as he plummeted toward the mana tree. Dodging branches was an easy enough feat, especially since he hadn’t hit it straight on.

He didn’t land on the ground, instead finding himself perched on one of the lower branches as he looked around. He had to admit, the spring and small stream around the tree, the valley, the mist that was always so fond of popping up...

The area looked positively magical.

“You coming down, or not?”

Lloyd looked straight down, to where the blue-haired half-elf he’d been in the act of visiting stood. “Good afternoon to you, too, Yuan.”

“I see you finally learned how to tell time,” the man said, though the smirk said rather plainly that he was teasing.

Lloyd couldn’t help it. He snorted and dropped to the ground, wings opening just enough to slow his descent and make his landing soft. “Nah. I’ve just been up for a few hours already.” Well, more like he hadn’t slept for the greater part of the last week, but Yuan didn’t need details. Really.

...Something was... off. Not quite _wrong_ , but...

“Yuan?”

The half-elf wasn’t looking at him, hadn’t really been looking at him the entire time.

Which was when Lloyd finally noticed just what was wrong.

Where he was used to blue-gray, there was now solid silver, a silver that was almost taking over Yuan’s pupils.

If it had been a milky white, he’d have said cataracts. Except this was a metallic silver, like Yuan’s eyes had been coated in a thin layer of liquid metal. He’d seen it before, only ever in elves, but still...

“Your eyes...”

“I know. I’d been fighting it off for thousands of years. But I knew, when Mithos died, that would be the end of it. It took a good long while to settle in properly, but...”

Lloyd grimaced. “The elves called it the curse of the stars.”

Yuan nodded. “It’s rare among them, even rarer for it to take hold of a half-elf. We noticed it when I was about a hundred, back during the Kharlan War. Martel figured out a way to stop it progressing... but it was too late to stop it altogether. Mithos was the only other person who mastered the elixir.” He shifted, eyes unseeing even as they shifted toward him.

Humans had their own afflictions that would render someone blind, but Lloyd knew there was more to what was happening to Yuan than his loss of sight.

“I’m surprised your Cruxis Crystal didn’t stop it,” he admitted.

“If it had been equipped even a year earlier, it would have,” Yuan said. “And maybe if we’d noticed sooner, Martel’s elixir would have done more than just slow it down. But there’s no way to turn back time... not without severe consequences. And... I can’t really regret this, either. I’ve lived far longer than I ever believed I would.”

No. No, he couldn’t be taking this where Lloyd thought...

“Lloyd... It’s long past time I joined my wife and brother-in-law. A part of me had planned on waiting for Kratos to return... but... And don’t you _dare_ tell Zelos this... I’ve struggled the past few years, not being able to see, and I can feel the curse trying to take a stronger hold on me. I don’t think I’d hold out that long.”

Again, Yuan’s head tilted back, face turned up toward the branches he could no longer see, toward the sun that still managed to slip through the leaves.

As much as Lloyd wanted to argue, wanted to tell Yuan to stop being so dramatic, that he’d be fine... If the half-elf’s Cruxis Crystal hadn’t been able to stop the disease so far, that meant Yuan’s days were numbered, and promised to be filled with pain, or discomfort at the very least.

And Lloyd couldn’t bring himself to try to lie to him when they both knew better.

Yuan was already dying... And from the way the half-elf was fingering his Cruxis Crystal, it was clear that he’d made his choice.

Lloyd grimaced. “You know I hate this.”

Silver-blue eyes closed, Yuan taking a deep breath. “I know. But you know I wouldn’t ask if I could see another way out.”

It was silent for a long moment, Lloyd bracing himself for what he was going to have to do shortly, and Yuan... It was impossible to tell.

“Lloyd. You’ve done an admirable job of dealing with your grief thus far. Please... Don’t let mine be the grave that breaks your resolve.”

“I won’t. And Yuan... Thank you.”

A small, sad smile was Yuan’s only response. Though his eyes opened, they clearly did not see Lloyd.

It was a fairly simple matter to remove a Cruxis Crystal... but in doing so, the bearer would die. This, every angel on Aselia knew.

Lloyd had never seen a Cruxis Crystal removed before. But the burst of mana and the pale violet light that flared at Yuan’s back only drew Lloyd’s attention for a bare second. Then, with an almost audible _whoosh_ of air, the angelic mana that had burst free, that which Lloyd recognized as Yuan’s and Yuan’s alone, swirled around and into the red crystal that was just touching the ground, even as Yuan’s body fell.

Lloyd had acted without thinking, catching Yuan and lowering the half-elf’s body to the ground gently, fingers ghosting over eyelids to close silvered eyes that had been as unseeing in their last moments of life as in death.

_“Lloyd...”_

The faint form of Yuan, knelt over his Cruxis Crystal, watched him with vibrant blue-green eyes that matched his hair in vibrancy, though not quite shade.

Lloyd hadn’t realized that the blue-green-gray he’d been used to had been just as much a result of the ‘curse’ as their nearly-solid silver.

“Goodbye, Yuan.”

Yuan bowed his head, a faint smile on his lips as Lloyd drew his sword, lashing out and striking the Cruxis Crystal with ease.

He would bury the red shards with Yuan, below the roots of the Yggdrasill where Lloyd and Martel would always watch over him.

And then, Lloyd decided as he stood and stepped over toward a teary-eyed Martel, he was going to go to the elves and figure out what they knew about their ‘curse of the stars’. Just in case it ever struck one of his friends again.

 


	22. A Dwarf's Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time waits for no one. Not even he who raised an angel's son.

Lloyd smiled to himself as he looked over the young dwarf’s work. Hogun was getting older, and didn’t have the energy to be in the forge all the time anymore, so Lloyd would occasionally come in to help instruct the Master Blacksmith’s last apprentice... Whom Hogun had been joking was really more Lloyd’s apprentice than his.

“Much better. Did you figure out what you did differently this time?” he asked. Thorben nodded, looking embarrassed.

“I was relyin’ on the magic ta hold the heat in last time, but I was holdin’ it too hot.”

Lloyd nodded. Exactly the problem he’d noticed. “And the etching?”

“I think I was too worried about the brittleness I could _feel_ in the metal ta even be thinkin’ ‘bout the etchings.”

A smile spread across Lloyd’s face as he nodded again. “Exactly. I’ll admit to being impressed. It usually takes longer to work out where in the process you’ve gone wrong, and fix it. And I speak from personal experience as well. This particular exercise took me _weeks_ to master.”

Thorben grinned, rightfully proud of his accomplishment. “And Master Hogun hails you as the fastest learner he’s ever had.”

Lloyd shrugged. “Eh, he also wasn’t starting from scratch with me. Still, I do best with the fiddly stuff. Jewelry, detail work... That kind of thing. Armor and weapons were more a case of necessity than interest.” He handed the plate armor back to the dwarf. “So, you got any plans for the night?”

Every once in a while, Lloyd was more than happy to take the apprentice blacksmith out for a few drinks. It helped keep him social, and after _decades_ spent popping in and out of Vraelheim at a whim, it seemed everyone had decided that the strange human was just another dwarf in the wrong skin.

Thorben turned and chuckled. “Well, guessin’ I do now.”

Lloyd laughed along with him, and was about to confirm it when a female dwarf in the uniform of the city runners burst into the workshop.

“Irving! Master Irving!”

Lloyd was on his feet and in front of the runner in moments. “I am he.”

“Miss Darria asked me ta come get ya. Yer father...”

Lloyd wanted to race out of the building, but years and years of being grumbled at for poor manners had him staying rooted in place, at least for a moment. And... “I’ll head over as soon as I’ve closed up the workshop,” he said, turning and giving Thorben a look.

The apprentice nodded, understanding in his eyes.

Well over three hundred years old, Dirk Irving had finally passed into the next life. Thorben had gathered his things and left within moments, and the runner, message delivered, also left. It took but moments for Lloyd to close everything up and put up the sign that would tell any customers that he was out.

Vraelheim’s occupants had finally grown used to seeing blue-green wings soaring through the massive cavern the city called home, so Lloyd felt no guilt in taking to the air, racing from Master Hogun’s shop toward the side-cavern that Dirk had called home for over half a century now.

His large wings made it difficult to fly in tight quarters, but with some practice and a distinct _need_ , Lloyd had found he was able to manipulate the mana that made his wings up, make it more or less solid, or condense it such that his wings became half their original size.

It still left them large, but they were small enough to help with navigating the tighter spaces of the caverns, and he lost no control over his flight in doing so now after years of practice.

What would have been an hour’s walk given the hour, or a half-hour’s run had he managed to slip out and follow the runner, became a ten-minute flight... Ten minutes only because it was difficult to get up to speed in the comparatively dead air of the caverns.

Landing a few yards away from the door to his father’s home, Lloyd ran the last bit of distance, not bothering to knock as anyone within would be expecting him.

Andven was the first dwarf he recognized. Darria was the next, the both of them turning at the sound of the opening door.

Dirk looked, at first glance, to simply be asleep... But Lloyd didn’t need to feel for mana to know that his father was already beyond this world. There was no breath in the still form under the blanket, no heartbeat.

Lloyd had known this was coming. Most dwarves were lucky to make it to two-eighty. Dirk... Dirk had been well over three hundred, inching up on three-twenty.

“Lloyd.” Darria’s voice was rough, and familiar, and Lloyd didn’t hesitate to fall into the chair next to her and allow the matronly dwarf to wrap her arms around him. His cousin, technically, not that they’d ever really mentioned it as anything more than a passing comment.

“When will he be buried?” Lloyd asked, the words forced and quiet.

“As soon as a stone is prepared for his grave,” Darria answered, just as quiet.

A stone... The dwarves were creatures of the earth. Stone, metal, wood... they designed and molded and built everything they had, and to the earth, each would be returned. Ceremonial armor, a casket of wood... and a stone carved to mark their grave, a testament to their life.

Lloyd knew the dwarven culture and their traditions just as well as any dwarf born into the city now. He knew... traditionally... that when a father passed, it was his family who created the armor, casket, and stone for his grave.

But Darria and Lloyd were the only family Dirk had left. And while Lloyd would have no troubles with the armor, and Darria was a wood-worker like Dirk...

It was okay, in times like these, for one part of the triad to be done by someone outside the family. But in older times, those duties would be doubled up.

And... Lloyd _had_ been talking to some of the stonemasons lately. Sure, he’d been asking around more with the intention of preparing himself to make gravestones for Genis and Richter (and Alice and Decus, a part of him noted, as they’d never _had_ gravestones), but... No one would be surprised if he chose to truly learn the art now for _Dirk’s_ sake.

“I think... I need to have another talk with Master Ingar,” he said after a while.

“Lloyd, yeh don’t have ta—“ Andven started.

“Lloyd.”

He looked up, Darria standing in front of him and looking at him worriedly.

But whatever she saw in his eyes, it must have gotten the point across. Because she stepped back, nodded, and then turned to Andven. “Glorys should have gone ta get the stones for a stasis field after gettin’ Lloyd. Wait here for her, would yeh? Lloyd don’t need ta sleep, an’ if I know the lad, he’ll be spending the light hours with Master Ingar and the dark workin’ on Dirk’s armor.”

Lloyd couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.

Darria knew him too well.

 


	23. Stepping Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been quite some time since Lloyd and his remaining friends had some down time. Tenebrae points this out.

Lloyd sighed as he took to the air, barely spotting Genis as the half-elf ‘vanished’ using the same mana-trick Lloyd, Colette, and Zelos used. They’d already agreed to meet up a few miles away to talk about this one.

Once again, what had started as a casual visit to make sure the mana usage was still not excessive had turned into a fight. One that the angels—and lone half-elf trying to help them—had gotten pulled into... and had finished rather viciously.

He hated using force to end a conflict like that...

Tenebrae rose up to meet him, Genis sitting upon his back like the Centurion was a beast of burden, not that Tenebrae was complaining. Genis couldn’t fly, and he had managed to stay _out_ of the conflict, so providing a ride for him wasn’t a problem.

“You know... You’d think, after three hundred years, we’d all be tired of this by now,” Genis muttered.

Lloyd sighed. “We knew what we were signing up for when we decided to start doing this. At least, I hope we all knew what we were doing.”

There were days he wondered if Colette was just doing this because he was. She wasn’t handling it well, that much he could see... which was odd, because he’d have sworn she’d been doing so _well_ when they’d started.

“I think you all need to take a break,” Tenebrae piped up as they dropped from the air to land at the pre-determined location. Not a moment later, Zelos joined the three of them, grinning and glancing behind him with a familiar air.

“Aw, really? Pranking Colette mid-flight?” Genis muttered.

Zelos snickered. “She needed to loosen up.” A pause, and then he was suddenly sober. “We all do, really. Tenebrae’s right, we need a break.”

Lloyd sighed, stepping to the right just enough to catch Colette when she rather predictably tripped upon landing.

The bright pink that covered her back had Lloyd chuckling without even thinking about it, reaching over to pat the worst of the pink chalk dust from the blonde’s clothes. It would wash out okay, even with Colette’s tendency to lean toward white clothes, but in the meantime, her backside (and a good portion of her hair) would be pink.

“Did it have to be _pink_?” Colette asked glumly as she tried to help Lloyd.

“Come on, what’s wrong with pink?” Zelos shot back, arms spread wide in a clear indication of his coat, which was just as pink as the coat he’d worn when they were all the ages they appeared.

“What’s wrong with this _picture_?” Genis muttered, though clearly amused. Lloyd glanced at him, then snorted.

“What, you mean the fact that the girl’s arguing against pink and the guy’s arguing _for_ it?” he asked. Genis grinned and nodded, and Zelos let out a melodramatic sigh.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re all just jealous of my awesomeness.”

And that comment got even Colette giggling.

Lloyd sighed to himself and glanced back toward the fight they’d just broken up.

They’d made their point. The peace between Tethe’alla and the recently-established Freyja would last for a few years, at least.

“I think I’m going to make my grave rounds. It’s been a few years, anyway,” Lloyd started.

“I’m not sure flying around the world counts as taking a break,” Tenebrae muttered.

“Eh, it’s Lloyd. He’s more relaxed up above the clouds than I am in a hot spring,” Zelos pointed out.

“Mm. That is true.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes at the two, even as Colette bit her lip. “Um... Lloyd? Do you... mind if I come with you?”

He hadn’t been expecting the request, but who was he to deny her? “Sure! ...Besides... I was planning on heading home for a while after making my rounds... I could always use some help with the garden.” The garden _she’d_ started, really.

And the bright smile he got in response was just the reaction he’d been hoping to get.

Tenebrae hummed. “I think I’ll go report in to Lord Ratatosk and then meet you back there.”

“Hey, _there’s_ something the rest of us need to do!” Genis piped up. “Go visit Richter and Ratatosk! I haven’t been by in ages.”

Lloyd chuckled. “I think I’ll pass on Ratatosk in favor of Raine. I was just by the Ginnungagap a couple weeks ago, but I haven’t seen Raine in months.” Forty-some months, actually, but he’d long since learned not to say ‘years’ around Colette or Zelos. Looked like Genis had learned, too, since he’d pointedly said ‘ages’ when talking about Richter and Ratatosk.

“Oh, that’s right! And the Professor’s getting married in a few more weeks, too!” Colette said, clearly looking forward to the event.

“Wait, Raine’s getting married?!”

And, looked like Lloyd wasn’t the only one who was clueless, though he was hiding it better than Zelos.

Genis chuckled. “Yeah. Decided not to actually send out invitations. It’s basically turned into a word-of-mouth thing. I only found out because I dropped by to check in on Miriam.”

“Are you two dating yet, or still in denial?”

Lloyd, Colette, and Zelos got a good laugh out of the face Genis made at Tenebrae for such a comment, and Lloyd couldn’t help himself. “Tenebrae’s got a point. You two have been ‘visiting’ each other for decades now.”

Genis turned a bright shade of red. “Well...”

Zelos snorted. “Just go for it already! Call it an extended vacation from saving the world. I personally think we all could use one, but...”

Lloyd winced. “Maybe not all at the same time.”

“Exactly. If we _all_ vanish for a couple decades, the world’s gonna fall apart. Probably. More than likely,” Zelos added.

Colette’s giggles redoubled. “Oh, I don’t know. They _might_ survive without us.”

Genis laughed. “Oh, fine! But I don’t wanna hear about anyone doing any world-saving in the next five years, got it? We really do need a break. I guess... I’ll just be taking a long break.”

Lloyd glanced down at Colette and ran his fingers through her currently half-pink hair. “I think that sounds like a good idea.”

“Oh, excellent. I don’t have to have my monsters actually sit on you four.”

Lloyd couldn’t help but laugh. Count on Tenebrae to sound so pleased with himself.

“So it’s settled. We’ll all take a break for the next few years.” And maybe, just maybe... Lloyd glanced at Colette and smiled.

It was well past time for the two of them to cross that line, as well.

 


	24. Return of Derris-Kharlan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been four hundred years since Derris-Kharlan went on its way, taking Kratos with it. Lloyd's ready to have him back.

“Lloyd...”

“Ratatosk told me it could be done, Martel. And Yuan wanted to wait for him to return... Are you really going to try to stand in my way right now?” Lloyd asked, stepping up toward the Yggdrasill with a confidence he honestly didn’t feel.

But... he had to try.

He’d promised, after all.

Martel shifted to the side, fading away as she did so, and leaving Lloyd with a clear path to the massive trunk.

He was no Genis, to feel the mana in the air around him constantly, but he knew the touch of the giant tree’s mana, and he took a deep breath knowing that this tree’s life was his to protect.

He _felt_ it, when the mana shifted. The tree itself was reaching out for its other half, for the cutting Kratos had taken with him to Derris-Kharlan. And Lloyd could feel the bridge that mana could form, if only it had focus...

He stepped forward, pressed his hands to the bark, and closed his eyes, focusing fully on the mana swirling around him, generated by the tree like the stream nearby was generated by a spring that sat... well. _Under_ the Yggdrasill’s roots, at the moment. Four hundred years ago, that spring had been just north of the tree.

Still, the flow of water, the flow of mana...

Lloyd’s mana became the earth, the roots, the solid force that focused the mana toward the Derris-Kharlan tree just like the stream flowed along its banks. And the mana followed that ‘stream’ Lloyd gave it... before giving up halfway.

Lloyd grimaced. It was a bridge, a doorway of sorts, and it needed to be accessed from _both_ sides for it to work. Which meant...

A deep breath, and Lloyd closed his eyes, determined to stay right where he was for as long as he could stand to.

But as minutes turned into hours, and hours into days, he could hear the mana around the tree starting to strain.

He could keep this up for days at a time, but the tree couldn’t.

So with reluctance, Lloyd shifted, pulling back and recalling his mana. Would he feel it from here, if someone tried to open the bridge from that side? He didn’t know, but it was his best hope at the moment. It was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to keep it open from this end for very long.

“I think, you might be able to hold it open longer with time...” Martel said, once again stepping up beside him. “Yuan and Kratos never spoke so long that I truly felt the strain last time... minutes, perhaps an hour at a time. To keep the bridge open for almost three weeks...”

“The Yggdrasill was just a sapling back then,” Lloyd mused. “But if you’re right... then it’s probably like a muscle, or... maybe just like Genis is always describing his control over mana. If he practices, he stays at the top of his game. And he’s gone far above where most elves are willing to go. But if he doesn’t keep himself in practice, he loses control of some of his stronger spells.”

Martel nodded. “Exactly. And the Yggdrasill is pure mana. That bridge is, too. So, theoretically...”

“Enough practice, enough time stretching that connection, and eventually, I might be able to hold the connection for _years_.”

But it would take _millennia_ to reach that point, and Lloyd didn’t think he’d need that long. At least, he hoped he wouldn’t need that long.

Lloyd sighed and jumped up, wings catching the air just long enough to get him up into the branches of the Yggdrasill. He was mildly surprised that no one had come looking for him yet, but then again, he _was_ on the ‘vacation’ that they’d all agreed on. And if he spent a few years of his at the tree, desperately trying to contact Derris-Kharlan and his father... Well, that was his business. At least he wouldn’t be running around having an adventure when he was supposed to be taking care of his wife, like a certain half-elf whose wife was thankfully more amused than annoyed by her husband’s frequent running about.

Hmm... He hadn’t been in the forge for a while. Hadn’t actually done a lot of smithing since Dirk had passed.

He needed to go back to it, and... maybe. Just maybe... It was time to move back to Iselia.

Or, well, the area that had once been Iselia. The town was gone now—between monster problems, the difficulties people had getting through the desert, and everything else, Iselia had basically been abandoned—but that didn’t make the area any less his home. He’d grown up there, and even though the fields were grown over, the forest was running wild, and all that was left were faint signs of the ranch, he still wanted to go back, rebuild... Or, if nothing else, build his own little retreat.

It was something to think about, really. And with the bridge unable to be created unless it was opened from both sides, he had the time to think...

It wasn’t long before he’d pulled out a sketchbook, quickly jotting down plans for another house. He’d built the one outside Luin mostly based on his original home in Iselia, although it was slightly larger to account for the guests he often had coming through. Since neither Colette, nor Zelos had actual homes anywhere, the two had been crashing at the old home more and more often as time went on.

Genis had a house in Sybak. Well, outside it, but close enough to say ‘in’. He’d come up with the basic design, given it to Lloyd, and then the two had spent the rest of the week bent over plans. Lloyd had built that house practically by himself... and for all that Genis still traveled incessantly, it had been Miriam’s home long before Genis had actually slowed down and married her.

They really needed to stop crashing at his house, and Lloyd needed another forge, since the old one at Luin was so rapidly falling to pieces.

So... that meant building again.

A small smile started to spread across his face as he worked, careful to include an extra guest room... that he hoped would be occupied by his biological father.

And while he waited for the tree to recover so that he might try again to reach Derris-Kharlan, Lloyd planned out his new home, already imagining it, the peaceful picture in his head a dream that he hoped might come true sooner rather than later.

 


	25. First Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five hundred years after Colette broke Lloyd's heart, and the damage is finally--truly--healed.

It was mid-spring, the trees of the little orchard Zelos had started in full bloom, ribbons strung between the branches and hung with paper lanterns Genis had brought from Mizuho. The morning was dawning bright and clear, and warm enough that Lloyd had no concerns about wandering the orchard barefoot.

Something he did fairly often of a morning, when it wasn’t freezing cold.

And as he found the small gazebo he’d built, also currently strung up with ribbons, Lloyd looked around himself with a sort of wonder as the events of the last few weeks finally sank in.

_Their breaths were heavy, hearts pounding fast and hard as they held onto each other. Zelos was nowhere to be found, nor did they know where Genis or Tenebrae were. And as Lloyd shifted, pulling Colette into his lap and curling around her as much as he could, all he could do was pray that they’d gotten out in time._

_Colette was crying, frantic breathing turning into hiccups, trembling as the adrenaline from their desperate flight wore off..._

_The scent of smoke filled the air, heavy and hot, but they were safe here for now. The wind was blowing the fire away from them at an angle, though it wasn’t harsh enough to save them from the smoke, nor would it stop the fires from reaching them eventually._

_But for now... for now, they were okay to stay here._

_Colette’s dress was destroyed, much of the white fabric simply gone, burned away. Thankfully, she’d gotten the fire put out before it had burned her skin too badly._

_Lloyd’s clothes weren’t much better. The only thing that had saved him from getting swallowed up in that inferno altogether had been his massive wings, which had borne him into the air with enough haste to escape the unholy winds that came with a fire of that magnitude._

_He was safe. Colette was safe. But the others..._

_Shadows moved, a familiar feline_ _form slipping free from them, Tenebrae’s eyes raking over their burnt clothes and settling on the still near-hysterical Colette._

_Lloyd took a deep breath, relieved to see Tenebrae was alright. Though, as a being of pure mana, he really shouldn’t have been so worried, but... “Genis? Zelos?”_

_“Zelos is a few hundred yards north, in a mild state of panic. Or, he was when I found him. He’s heading for the Ginnungagap to retrieve Aqua now. Many of her water monsters can get themselves airborne; with any luck, they’ll be able to contain this blaze,” the Centurion replied. “Genis is at the eastern edge of the fires, using his water spells to soak the earth in the fire’s path.”_

_Lloyd let out a sigh, very much relieved now._ _Genis and Zelos were okay. He and Colette were okay..._

_Colette sniffed, hands rubbing at her eyes as she frantically tried to wipe her tears away. “We should... we should help. There has to be something...”_

_Something in her expression, in the terror etched across her face and in the lines of her entire body, had Lloyd’s heart breaking._

_Because this had been aimed at_ them _, at the surviving angels and the half-elf who dared try to help them. If he hadn’t grabbed Colette and pulled her away, his massive wings granting them the speedy escape that had spared their lives, he could have... No. He_ would have _lost her._

_“Marry me.”_

_More a demand than a question, but..._

_Blue eyes rose to meet russet, shock, confusion, and then realization in those depths. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Colette’s next move was to claim his lips with her own, a breathless ‘yes’ escaping between kisses._

What had been a split-second decision had turned into three days of frantic fire-fighting, followed by a week of rapid-fire planning. And now, just a few weeks later...

“You’re not getting cold feet, are ya bud?”

Lloyd chuckled as he ran his hands over the white-painted rail of the gazebo. “No. Far from it.” He’d thrown himself into the wedding preparations with as much fervor as Colette and Genis had, and though he hadn’t seen Colette’s dress yet (she was still firmly of the opinion that it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride’s gown before the wedding), he really, truly hoped that Genis hadn’t been lying when he’d given Lloyd the details he’d been begging for.

Not enough for him to know what his long-time friend would be wearing, but just enough for him to make her jewelry to match.

“You realize you’ve got about, oh... twenty minutes before Raine and Kiernan get here, right?”

He stopped, glanced up at the sky to judge the time, and realized that Zelos was right. He’d been standing around thinking about the whirlwind the last month had been for too long.

So really, Zelos shouldn’t have yelped when he stepped out of the gazebo and took to the air, shooting back to the house and landing on the western terrace, carefully staying low enough that Colette wouldn’t see him from the eastern terrace, nor would he see her, if she was out there.

Five hundred years, almost to the day that Colette had broken his heart. No longer would this time of year be a reminder of the schism between them...

It took Lloyd but a few minutes to dress himself, though he glared at the boots now upon his feet.

Zelos and Genis said it often, and really, Lloyd was in no position to argue. He really did spend too much time running about barefoot.

“Ah, now there’s a groom. And here I was worried you were going to marry Colette in your pyjamas.”

Lloyd turned and threw a piece of junk metal at Zelos’ head, fully aware that the redhead would either dodge or catch it. Mana fields brushed against his, and Lloyd was quickly stepping out the door, heading down the steps to meet Raine and her family.

He hadn’t liked Kiernan Alderash the first time they’d met. Too much of a resemblance to Decus, really. Dark blue hair, similar facial features and hairstyle...

Except, where Decus had been a fighter, desperately in love with Alice and loyal to the bitter end, Kiernan was a scholar just as Raine was, and as much as they’d teased Genis about Miriam, Raine and Kiernan had taken over a century to admit to having feelings for each other.

And toddling along between the two professors was a seventeen-month-old little boy who had his mother’s silver hair and his daddy’s brown eyes.

Lloyd grinned and crouched. “Hey, Kloitz!”

“Unca Lloy!”

He chuckled and caught the little boy as he rushed forward, grinning at him and nearly tripping in his hurry. Raine’s belly was round, a second child on the way, and Lloyd couldn’t help but feel ecstatic.

“I’m glad you guys could make it,” he said. “I know it was short notice...”

Kiernan shook his head. “It was no problem. It’s not too far from Asgard, really. And Kloitz enjoyed the traveling. Taking after his Uncle Genis, I’m afraid,” the blue-haired main said, giving his son a fond look.

Lloyd chuckled. “More like _all_ of his uncles. Though, I was planning on sticking around the house for a few years. It’s been a while since I did any serious crafting, and working on Colette’s bridal ensemble reminded me just how much I love working with jewelry.”

Raine hummed. “I think it would be good for you to settle down for a while. I remember the last time I visited your house outside Luin, I almost had to physically drag you out of the forge.”

“Yeah, he gets pretty absorbed in stuff, doesn’t he?” Zelos piped up as he skipped down the last few steps. “Hey, it’s a squirt!”

“Not a squirt!” Kloitz grumbled back, to much laughter.

“Come on, Genis and Miriam are up with Colette, and Tenebrae’s managed to talk Ratatosk and Richter into leaving the Ginnungagap for a few hours. They’re in a lull at the moment, anyway; can’t do anything more until the most recent adjustment to the seal settles,” Lloyd said. “You guys should see the orchard. Zelos and Genis really outdid themselves.”

Raine laughed. “I can imagine. Given how overboard Genis went with the decorating at our wedding...”

“Probably a good thing we insisted on short notice,” Lloyd agreed, stepping out the door and leading the two half-elves out back to the gazebo... Where two redheads waited for them.

Richter’s hair was braided down his back, acid green eyes glancing over them even as Aqua appeared out of thin air, the Centurion of Water half-draping herself over her Knight in a familiar manner.

“When did you change your hair?” Raine asked as Ratatosk shifted, glaring over his shoulder with eyes that were just shades darker than his hair.

The spirit snorted. “This is my natural coloring. And...it didn’t feel right, holding onto Aster’s form so completely after Emil died.”

“He’s been a redhead for most of the last four centuries,” Lloyd added. “But, it suits him.”

“And white suits you.”

The vaguely-familiar voice had Lloyd turning, blinking at a young man with a fair resemblance to himself.

Except he knew those golden-brown eyes, and that mana.

“Solum.”

The earth Centurion nodded, and Lloyd understood the resemblance now. Solum never really had given up his form entirely, though the changes had set them apart just enough that, while strangers might mistake them for brothers, they weren’t identical.

“So... who’s officiating?” Kiernan asked, as if it had only just occurred to him.

Lloyd shot Zelos an amused smirk, and Raine groaned softly. “I know that look. To think I used to enjoy seeing that look...”

“Oh?”

“Well, used to be that look meant someone was about to get themselves straightened out whether they liked it or not. Nowadays, it just means trouble,” Raine explained to her amused husband.

Lloyd chuckled and let Kloitz down, as he could see Genis stepping out to join them. They wouldn’t have music, but none of them truly cared.

Still, Genis’ appearance meant that Colette was soon to follow, and so Raine and Kiernan took their son and stepped off to one side of the gazebo, Richter and Ratatosk finding a spot near the railing on the other side.

Zelos stood by him, Genis joining Richter, Aqua, and Ratatosk even as Lloyd stood near the northern end of the gazebo. The southern end was where Miriam and then Colette would be walking up...

Solum stood next to Kiernan, seemingly happy to help keep excitable Kloitz distracted, and Lloyd could see Tenebrae’s tail swishing back and forth, though the Centurion of darkness was still laying on the roof.

Lloyd didn’t have more than a moment to acknowledge the presence of the last two to join them—Origin, who, while not actually invited, Lloyd wasn’t surprised to see, and Verius, who would be leading the ceremony—before Miriam came around the corner.

But he didn’t see Genis’ wife. No, his eyes were locked on the woman who trailed after her, white dress embroidered in multiple shades of blue, with purples and a few splashes of pink peeking out. And though her veil covered her face, and the tiara and necklace he’d finished for her just a few days previous, he couldn’t help the lone thought that passed through his mind, a thought he gave voice to as Colette stood in front of him.

“You look like a princess, love.”

“ _Your_ princess,” Colette whispered back.

His, indeed. After so very long...

He barely heard a word of what Verius said, too busy taking in every detail of his wife on their wedding day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I hate writing wedding scenes. Still trying to get Cress and Mint to cooperate for Book 2, but they refuse. May end up doing Chester and Arche instead. God forbid BOTH couples turn around and decide to agree to weddings.


	26. A Dying Species

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd's missed the second passing of Derris-Kharlan, but he has greater concerns at the moment.

The dwarves were dying.

It wasn’t something Lloyd wanted to think about, and yet... He knew that there was no denying it. Their magic was failing them, the city of Vraelheim was slowly crumbling, and what had once been a bustling city filled with hundreds of thousands of dwarves now housed perhaps thirty or forty thousand.

Lloyd looked out over the cavern, brow furrowed as he wondered over this. There was no reason for the dwarves to be fading that he could ascertain. His own magic was strong, ten times stronger than even the blacksmiths he had personally trained from a young age, who were now the most magically-inclined dwarves in the entire city.

Perhaps it was just their magic fading, but _why_? Why was it weakening, why was it _failing_? His was stronger than any dwarf would ever manage, but even he could tell that his apprentices, though the strongest of the current generation, were much weaker than Hogun and Thorben had been.

It was vexing... and heartbreaking. The dwarves were as much a part of Lloyd’s life as his home northeast of the desert was, or flying above the clouds, or stopping conflicts with his friends, or tending to the Yggdrasill...

That though made Lloyd pause.

The Yggdrasill.

Kratos. Derris-Kharlan.

The eight-hundred year passing had come and gone _years ago_! He’d completely missed it!

“Master Lloyd?”

And then Lloyd had to berate himself, because Kratos was an angel, and could wait for him.

The dwarves... the dying race he loved, whose customs he’d taken as his own, the race to whom his adoptive father had belonged... they were dying.

He shifted, pushing away from the wall he’d been leaning against and turned to look at the young woman who stood nearby.

Rhunde was the greatest hope he had for the most recent generation of dwarves. Already, she showed a great talent for smithing, and had a good touch with the innate magic that so many of the dwarves had been losing. Perhaps she would be able to help bring them back around to prosperity...

But deep inside, Lloyd doubted it.

Still... “Finished cleaning up?” he asked. Rhunde nodded, and he stepped past her and into the workshop. She was still very early into her apprenticeship, and that meant making sure she knew her way around the forge, and knew where everything belonged. Cleaning duty sucked, but it imparted good habits early on.

A cluttered workspace made it difficult to get any actual work done.

And Rhunde had taken almost as much care to return everything to its rightful place as Lloyd always did.

He smiled to himself. “Well done. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. Your father’s aware of your schedule, yes?”

“Yes. He’s not pleased, but I feel no call to the stone he shapes,” Rhunde replied. “If I am to be of use to anyone, I should be doing what comes naturally to me.”

“Indeed you should,” Lloyd agreed. “Off you go now. I need to head out for the night.” He needed to go talk to Martel... Just in case.

It was far too late to be trying to contact Kratos now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t ask the spirit if his father had attempted to bridge the gap from the other side this trip.

Just a quick trip to talk to his little sister...

Then he would return to his dying people and do his best to see them hold on just a little longer.

 


	27. The Last Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raine drops by for a visit with some news that Lloyd isn't all that surprised by.

He was in the forge when the woman came by.

To be honest, he didn’t recognize her at first. Silver hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, the many wrinkles and tanned skin lead him to believe it was one of the many elderly ladies around the small town of Eruden, a village that had cropped up on the shores north of Lloyd’s home, not far from where Iselia had once been.

“Lloyd.”

Except, he _knew_ that voice. Even if it had changed as the woman aged, he _knew_ that voice, knew the tone, and he finished off the piece he’d been working on quickly, setting it aside before pulling his apron off and dampening the flames. He was overdue a break, anyway...

He smiled as he turned to the half-elf who really wasn’t identifiable as a half-elf, now that her age matched her hair. “Hey, Raine. Haven’t seen you in decades.”

Though it was really closer to a century. Raine had rediscovered her love of ruins after the last of her children had finally gotten married and left the nest. Kiernan had thrown himself further into his studies, and it seemed Raine had done similarly.

Though, he had to admit that it was amusing. Most of the ruins Raine studied now, she’d been alive to see when they were still in their heyday. But, she wasn’t here for him to stand around reminiscing, and from the exhaustion evident in her frame, whatever news she brought wasn’t pleasant. But he’d heard from Kloitz just last week, and for Raine to have traveled all this way from Mizuho, which was planted a few hundred miles from Meltokio last he’d checked, that meant...

“Genis... He’s...” Lloyd started.

“Yes,” Raine admitted. “To be honest... He died almost three weeks ago. They’ve only just found the body. Silly boy. Always racing about... I can’t help but regret that he changed so very much from the child I had to raise when I was barely more than a child myself.”

Lloyd knew exactly what she was talking about. Really, Genis hadn’t become a nomad until after Presea’s death, and Lloyd knew that a part of his friend had truly been buried along with her all those centuries ago. And, yes, perhaps he’d fallen in love again, and had a child—just one, because Miriam had almost lost their daughter and they hadn’t dared try again for fear of her life and the child’s—but as much as Genis loved his wife... Presea had been his first true love, just as Colette had always been Lloyd’s.

And what better way to remember all of the good times spent traveling together, working on charms and little projects, than to continue traveling?

Genis had always come home to Miriam before her death a few decades ago, and now it seemed his traveling days were finally over.

“Dare I ask _where_ they... found his body?” Lloyd asked, though the last two words formed thick and heavy on his tongue. He gestured for Raine to follow him, stepping through the workshop to the door that led into his house. She’d come this far...

The amusement in Raine’s expression helped to soothe the aching in his chest at the loss of one of his oldest friends, and as she spoke, it was clear that the revelation she now shared with him had helped her as well. “Gaoracchia Forest. Well... Actually, closer to where Ozette was a millennium ago than anything else, but...” She stopped and gave Lloyd a meaningful look. “With Heimdall once again closing its gates to half-elves, and the sky garden on the Lezareno Building long since lost to the ravages of time, I think Genis chose his final resting place.”

It was with a light heart and a slight chuckle that Lloyd nodded, because Raine’s words rang true.

The sky garden where Presea, Alicia, and Regal had been laid to rest was gone. Miriam, though buried in the elven cemetery in the Ymir Forest, was a grave lost to Genis as the elves began to barr half-elf passage again.

But, buried in the once-Ozette area was Altessa, the dwarf having died decades prior to Yuan’s passing... A dwarf who’d never returned to one of the cities, as Dirk had. And that area held so many memories that Genis would have held close to his heart.

Raine was very, very right. Her little brother had chosen his final resting place.

Lloyd pulled up a chair for Raine as they reached the table, and slipped into the kitchen to set a kettle on to boil. An idea was beginning to form in his mind, as he mused over all the graves that he could no longer visit... the graves lost to time or which were simply difficult to get to.

He had never become a Master Stonemason, nor did he truly wish to _be_ a master, but he knew the art well enough now...

“So, when...?” he started as he walked back into the living room, knowing full well that hovering over the stove while the water boiled wasn’t going to make it boil faster.

Raine looked up from her hands with a weary smile. “Next week. We’re burying him next to Altessa, since the grave marker’s still there. I figure that will give enough time for Victoria’s family to travel. And she’s supposed to be contacting Colette... Of my children, only Kloitz and Esme have confirmed they’ll be coming, though.”

Lloyd sighed, feeling Raine’s disappointment in her children just as keenly. Of the four, only Kloitz had truly kept in contact with his parents after leaving Asgard. And his wife, Esme, had adored Genis and Victoria. So while it was to be expected that the two of them would come... Well. That still left Decus (because it seemed Raine _had_ noticed her husband’s resemblance to Lloyd’s once-imposter, and the boy looked much like his father), Carina, and Celeste out and about.

Though, when it came right down to it, the younger three hadn’t often seen Genis, anyway. Raine and Kiernan had lived in Asgard, whereas Genis and Miriam had lived and raised their daughter Victoria in Sybak. The two cities were quite a distance from each other—and Sybak had suffered a name change to Maltrice—and Genis’ travels had rarely brought him to the city of ruins.

The kettle began to whistle at him, and Lloyd slipped into the kitchen, preparing a couple cups for tea and bringing them out to the table.

“Is Kiernan still teaching?” he asked, wondering after the blue-haired man’s health. After all, the last time he’d seen Kiernan, Raine’s husband had been ill.

“No. At the moment he’s staying in Mizuho, since it moved again. It’s right about where it was when Sheena first introduced us to the village, actually; close enough to be able to walk to the funeral when it’s time,” Raine replied. “But... I don’t think he’ll be long for this world. He has less elven blood than Genis and I do. Even at seven hundred, he’s fading fast...”

Lloyd reached out to grip her shoulder, a gentle but firm reassurance of his support.

Raine was almost nine hundred, herself. And though it wasn’t unheard of for an elf to survive for a full millennium... it was quite rare for a half-elf to manage it.

The next century was going to hurt, Lloyd realized. Genis. Raine. Richter.

And Ratatosk and his Centurions. Tenebrae had told them, time and time again, that Ratatosk would fade without the mana from the original tree... It wouldn’t be long now before they would be gone.

Lloyd took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “You haven’t been by the temple since Sheena died, have you?”

Raine looked up from her half-empty cup of tea and blinked at him. “...Is it still standing?”

Lloyd chuckled. “Mostly. Since it’s home to Verius, I figured I’d better make sure it doesn’t just collapse on her head. Though, really, it’s more a private garden than a temple anymore. Colette enjoys keeping it neat, anyway.” He shifted, glancing toward his workshop. “I’ve got this big block of marble I was planning on making into a few gravestones to replace some that are falling apart... But I’m starting to wonder if it might be better to make it a memorial of sorts, since there are just _so many_ graves we can’t get to easily anymore...”

Raine laughed a bit. “You _do_ have an odd fascination with talking to rocks.”

He grinned along with her. “Hey. As Tenebrae keeps putting it, if it means I’m taking the time to sit down and get things off my chest, then it’s a good thing.”

His professor nodded, a warm smile making the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes stand out all the more. “You’re right. And I’m glad you’re finding the time to unwind a little. It’s been stressful for _me_ the last few years... I can’t imagine how much flying you, Colette, and Zelos have to be doing.”

He shook his head, finishing his cup of tea before offer to refill Raine’s, an offer she declined. “I love flying, really. I’ve _got_ a purpose... And as long as I can still make a difference, I’m going to _try_.”

“I suppose that’s all that anyone could ask from you. Lloyd... thank you.”

Lloyd stood, offering a hand to Raine to help her up, her joints no longer as painless as they had once been. “I’d tell you to come by more often, but...”

“Haha... I think this is going to be my last big journey. Back to the classroom with me for now,” Raine replied, laughter in her voice. “But I suppose I’ll see you next week.”

Lloyd nodded. “I’ll be there. Did you send anyone after Zelos?”

“No, though I asked Victoria to ask Colette to do it. I know you’ve been fairly settled these last few years...”

He shook his head. “I’ll worry about Zelos. Thank you for coming by to let me know, Professor.”

Raine smiled. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been your teacher, Lloyd.”

“Eh, you know what they say. Old habits die hard.”

Raine laughed and turned, leaving in good spirits, and Lloyd silently congratulated himself on a job well done as he returned to the workshop, settling onto a bench to write out a list of friends whose graves were lost or too far scattered to be visited anymore.

Genis would probably have laughed at him for making a memorial...

 


	28. Ritual in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd helps Ratatosk to bury his last Knight.

It was raining.

Oddly fitting, he knew. Richter had always loved the rain. And though Lloyd didn’t understand the mechanics of rain in a pocket dimension like the Ginnungagap... well.

It didn’t make it any less fitting.

This was a rather odd funeral already, if he was being honest with himself. Something just this side of the traditional dwarven funerals, which wouldn’t have made sense, except for the fact that Richter refused to answer to any government of humans... or elves. And though he’d never had the chance to see one of the dwarven cities, he’d spent years digging every bit of knowledge he could out of Lloyd.

Knowledge that Lloyd had given, happily.

And so it was that Richter would be buried in ceremonial armor, within a casket of willow, which would be covered with earth and a small, marble gravestone inlaid with aquamarine. All of which Lloyd had so painstakingly crafted over the last two weeks since the half-elf’s body had given in to the ravages of time.

It hadn’t been an expected order, but Ratatosk had sent it via Aqua, and once Lloyd had calmed the Centurion of Water back down, he’d understood.

Richter, like Lloyd, followed the dwarven customs more than anything else... and as the dwarves were returned to the earth encased in that which they took from it to sustain their livelihoods, so too would Richter be returned.

His sight shifted to Ratatosk and Aqua, off to the side. Aqua was draped over her Lord’s shoulders just as she had so often done with Richter, and Ratatosk stood tall, aged but a few years from the youthful façade he had worn when Lloyd had first met him. Red hair fell wildly about his head, darker red eyes tired and filled with regret as Richter’s coffin was slowly covered.

Time, friends, and Richter’s companionship had changed the Spirit in ways that Lloyd couldn’t hope to comprehend. And even as Solum stepped back from his work and turned to Lloyd, a silent indication that it was time for the headstone to be placed, Lloyd felt the gaping hole of Ratatosk’s impending absence.

Still, he stepped forward quietly, footfalls sure and steady over the ground that Solum had just finished returning to its place, his power causing the very earth to wrap around Richter in an eternal embrace that the dwarves would have been envious of. And as Lloyd placed the marker, fingertips brushing over the runes around the edges that he had painstakingly practiced and yet could not read, he uttered a soft prayer in the mother tongue of the dwarves.

_“I bid your final journey be swift, Richter Abend, Knight of Ratatosk and Sentinel of the Space Between Worlds. May your soul find its home in the great halls of the Eldan, and be welcomed of the Masters to their tables, for yours has not been an easy journey. Rest, revel, and return to this world the energy you have borrowed to protect it. Farewell, my friend...”_

“The prayer of the Eldan,” Ratatosk whispered.

Lloyd kept his head bowed as he stepped back, eyes still caught on the runes Ratatosk had asked him to carve upon the stone. “I thought it fitting. He would have been warmly welcomed in Vraelheim had he had the chance to visit. And it’s quite likely Dad’ll know my handiwork... His armor was crafted by my hand and magic just as Richter’s.”

“I wonder if Aster will find them...”

Lloyd glanced over at Ratatosk, and finally recognized the pain he saw in the redhead’s eyes. “The runes you asked me to carve... What do they say?” he asked, though he had a feeling he already knew.

“The kana reads, ‘Nemuri, aishi, anata no tamashī no kyōdai o motome nasai. Watashitachi ga tsugi no jinsei de futatabi au koto o yurushite moraitai...’” Ratatosk murmured, and though Lloyd recognized the ancient language of the people of Mizuho, he did not understand it. The spirit at his side took a deep breath, swallowed, and then spoke again. “Sleep, love, and seek the brother of your soul. May the fates grant we meet again in the next life.”

Lloyd smiled, though the expression was tainted by the heavy atmosphere.

He’d been right. Ratatosk had, indeed, fallen in love with the half-elf whom had once wanted him dead.

But it wouldn’t be long now before he followed his last Knight, and even as Lloyd watched, Solum abandoned his human form, curled up next to the headstone Lloyd had carved centuries ago for Decus, and began to simply fade out of existence.

Aqua would be following him soon. And then... Then it would just be Ratatosk, and Tenebrae, for however long the two had left.

“Lloyd... You... will return... won’t you?” Ratatosk asked, hesitant and somewhat fearful. And Lloyd could make no response, save for a single, firm nod of the head. Whatever Ratatosk saw in that movement, it seemed to appease him, and it was as if a great weight had been removed from his shoulders. “One year from today, if you would. I made Richter a promise, and I intend to keep it... though likely not in the manner he’d have expected me to...”

Lloyd placed a hand on his shoulder, and red eyes once again rose to meet russet. “I’ll be here. I promise.”

A faint, tired smile graced the spirit’s lips.

“Thank you... Lloyd.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Japanese was Google Translated. I take no responsibility for any horrible mistakes in grammar/word choice.


	29. The Last Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratatosk has run out of mana, but he has one last gift to give.

 “So you’re here.”

Lloyd walked forward, glancing around as he did so and eyeing the seal. “You asked me to. Actually, I’m technically a couple days early.”

“That’s fine,” Ratatosk said, voice soft. “More than fine, really. I think if I put this off any longer, I’ll lose the courage to do it at all.”

Lloyd stopped in the center of the space that had long since lost most of its color, and gave the spirit a worried look. “Ratatosk?”

The redhead turned just enough to look over his shoulder, then waved Lloyd forward. “Come here. I did everything I could with this damn seal, but the demons are still trying to wear at it from that side and wriggle through. I’m going to teach you to tighten it, first... And then I have a gift for you. The last I’ll ever hand out.”

He didn’t want to join Ratatosk at the sealed doorway that had once housed the Centurion’s Cores but... Well. There was no stopping what would be happening in the next few hours, Lloyd had a feeling. And ensuring that the demons couldn’t get to Aselia was of utmost importance.

So with reluctance, Lloyd walked forward, standing next to Ratatosk as the spirit lifted a hand.

“You feel this?” the redhead asked. Lloyd felt, not physically, but with his mana and the ambient mana swirling through the air, a skill Genis had done his best to teach him and Colette over centuries of friendship.

And he did feel it, the way Ratatosk was pulling the mana into a line, using it to trace a design that slowly lit up on the seal as he worked.

Once the design was fully lit up, the spirit twisted the diagram, and immediately, Lloyd could feel the difference as the miasma of Niflheim began to leak free. And yet, with another twist back the other way, it was sealed once again.

“The more they work at it, the further the seal will slip,” Ratatosk said. “It should hold for a millennium at least before the miasma begins leaking through, but it still annoys me that I couldn’t make it solid enough to ensure they’d _never_ get through.”

“If you’re right, that’s still a lot less to worry about than the original seal,” Lloyd said. “If I have to drop in every thousand years, so be it. I’ve put too much work into protecting Aselia to let it be destroyed by negligence.”

Ratatosk laughed, the sound startling and rather heartbreaking, if only because of the pain he seemed to be in. “Well. At least I can move on knowing it’s being tended to.” Red eyes met russet. “You’ve set Zelos and Colette free of the binds of mana, correct?”

Lloyd nodded. “I have. Thank you for showing me; I’ll probably have to do the same for Dad when he comes back.”

“Likely, unless the spirit of the Derris-Kharlan tree can manage to do what I’ve done here,” Ratatosk said. “And even then... You never know when you’ll need that skill. Anyway...” He turned to face Lloyd fully, and the angel had a feeling that this was going to be it. “Tenebrae.”

The last living Centurion appeared in a cloud of darkness, stepping to Lloyd’s side and rubbing against his hip as any domesticated cat might against someone’s ankle. Though Lloyd would never call Tenebrae a pet, he had become a very close companion...

He would miss him terribly, Lloyd mused as he ran a hand down the Centurion’s back.

“Thank you, for your companionship all these centuries,” he said softly.

“And you for yours,” Tenebrae replied.

And then, in another burst of dark smoke, Tenebrae was gone, and all that remained was a Core that was absorbed into Ratatosk.

The redhead smiled, and spread his arms as a glow overtook him, a vibrant crimson in color just like _his_ Core...

“Farewell, Lloyd Aurion. I leave this last treasure as a gift to you, and a token of the promise you’ve made in your heart,” Ratatosk’s voice echoed as the red glow brightened and condensed.

As it began fading again, something became visible in the glow, and Lloyd stepped forward with a heavy heart to accept the... pendant.

It was a simple, burnished gold disk, with a red, spherical gem in the very center that yet glowed.

And arranged around the red gem by color were eight more, smaller than the central one, but it took no more than a glance for Lloyd to recognize exactly what he held in his hand.

Because every last gem had a design in the center, and Lloyd _knew_ those designs. Ratatosk’s final gift contained nine beautiful, miniature replicas of his and his Centurions’ Cores.

Lloyd ran his thumb over each marble-sized gem as he listed them off. Ratatosk in the center, Ignis above where on a compass one would find north, then Solum, Ventus, Glacies, Aqua, Tonitrus, Tenebrae, and Lumen going clockwise.

Only, now that the overall crimson glow from Ratatosk had faded, Lloyd could see that the red gem in the center and the smokey gray-black to its left were both lit from within.

The other seven were dark.

Lloyd took a deep breath, fighting off the urge to cry as he realized what it meant.

Soon enough, Ratatosk’s and Tenebrae’s miniature Cores would fade as well. And the fact that the spirit had given him this at all...

 _“...a token of the promise you’ve made in your heart...”_ Ratatosk had said.

And Lloyd knew what that meant, too. Because everything he’d worked for in the last century was intended to be for the good of Aselia as a whole. So he pulled the chain of the pendant over his head, and whispered his vow even as he turned to leave the Ginnungagap for the last time in a long time.

“I swear... to preserve the mana tree and protect Aselia from threats, both native and foreign, for as long as I live...”

The warmth he felt from the pendant might have been an acknowledgement of that vow, or it might have just been his imagination. Either way, it helped, because even though the pendant was the final nail in Ratatosk’s proverbial coffin, the spirit had left him with a mission.

A mission he refused to fail.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just seemed like the perfect place to leave off for a few days. Yeah, I know, where have I been. I got a little caught up in other things, okay?
> 
> I will be back with another chapter dump sometime next week.


	30. The Passing of the Professor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...this actually focuses less on Raine's death, and more on Colette's coping skills, or lack thereof.

Raine looked like she was smiling. One of the very few open-casket ceremonies Lloyd had attended over the centuries, and his Professor—and never mind that he was five years short of the one thousand mark, she would always be the Professor in his mind—looked like she was smiling.

Maybe she’d already found Genis and Kiernan. That would explain so much.

Colette stood at his side, tears slowly soaking the shoulder of his coat, but Lloyd wouldn’t complain. He was fighting off his own tears, even though they’d all been expecting this for ages.

At the ripe old age of one thousand and one, Raine Sage-Alderash was being buried just east of the Balacruf Mausoleum, next to where they’d laid her husband to rest nearly a century ago.

Most of Raine’s children were already buried as well, Raine’s elven blood granting her a longer life than her husband and children, who had more human blood than elven.

Red drew Lloyd’s eyes, and Zelos stepped up on Colette’s other side, an arm reaching out to wrap around her, though the redhead’s hand found Lloyd’s other shoulder.

It was just the three of them, until Lloyd could bring Kratos back to Aselia. Certainly, Lloyd believed there would be more friends to be made, and more than likely another few thousand women for Zelos to break the hearts of, but everyone they’d traveled with in the years spent saving the world was now gone.

It was only when the ceremony was over and the casket lowered into the ground that they moved away from the edges. Stepping forward together, Colette carried a bundle of flowers that were laid upon the loose earth that now hid Raine’s casket, while Zelos and Lloyd each laid a single flower upon the earth.

This grave marker wasn’t his handiwork. Raine hadn’t asked it of him, and though he’d offered, by the time he’d done so, she’d already had the marker on order with another stonemason.

That hadn’t stopped him from carefully adding her name to the memorial that now stood within what had once been the Martel Temple.

They did not leave the funeral by air, instead walking away from the proceedings toward the mausoleum. It still stood tall, the stones protected from the worst of the erosion by the trio of spirits who each held within themselves a portion of the power that belonged, as a whole, to an entity known as ‘Sylph.’

Zelos sighed as they wandered through the mausoleum, the monsters leaving them be as Lloyd wrapped mana around them, creating the effect of a holy bottle with the ease of years of practice. It was a trick Tenebrae had taught him, which Colette still struggled with.

“You know... I know you two have more memories of this place than I do... But coming here always reminds me of Sheena.”

Lloyd grimaced. “I _wish_ the first memory to come to mind of this place was of Sheena. Even her ambushing us on our way out.”

Colette’s giggle was an unexpected, but welcome sound, and as Lloyd looked down at her, her smile grew wider. “So... Out of curiosity, was the coffee hot or cold?”

He snorted, then busted up laughing, unable to help himself. He would never live that down, he had a feeling. And, well...

“It wasn’t really either since I’d made it and then it sat around long enough to cool... and it was tea, not coffee.”

Colette’s giggles redoubled. “So the Great Coffee Deception becomes even _more_ complicated!”

It was the look on Zelos’ face that did Lloyd in, and he collapsed against the wall laughing harder than he had in centuries, soon finding himself with a lap full of his wife when she, too, noticed Zelos’ utter befuddlement.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” the redhead finally managed as Lloyd slowly got his laughter under control.

Colette grinned up at him. “You know how Lloyd’s super perceptive, but you don’t notice until he knocks you over the head with it?”

“Hey now...”

“Well, you _do_.”

Zelos snorted. “Oh yeah... I’ve been there. So...?” he prompted.

“Well, it was just after I opened the seal here. We’d made camp to let me ride out the worst of the symptoms of what Raine called ‘Angel Toxicosis’. I’d mostly recovered and was a little ways off from camp because my senses had gotten sharper and... well... Honestly, my eyes, ears, and nose were starting to hurt a little from over-stimulation,” Colette admitted. “And Lloyd came out after a while with this mug. He gave it to me and told me it was hot coffee... then promptly turned around and said he’d had Genis cool it so it was actually iced coffee... and then said he’d lied and it _was_ hot.”

Lloyd chuckled. “Colette did a really bad job of trying to pretend she could actually feel the supposed heat or cold, and I called her out on it.”

Zelos shook his head. “And now I understand why it Colette called it the Great Coffee Deception. And it was seriously tea the whole time?”

“Now that I think about it, I _was_ thinking it smelled weird to be coffee... Not that Lloyd gave me long to wonder about if it _was_ actually coffee, what with the whole temperature thing,” Colette said, shifting a bit. Seemed she was in the mood to snuggle, and Lloyd wasn’t going to complain. She’d spent most of the last decade in the Asgard area as Raine had faded, while he’d been in the forge and orchards of the Eruden house.

“So... I think of Sheena, and Colette thinks of the Great Coffee Deception... What about you, Lloyd?”

He sighed and shook his head. “As funny as the coffee thing is in hindsight, it really _wasn’t_ funny at the time. That’s actually where my mind jumped to. Always is when we come through here... I hate remembering how I felt when I realized just what Colette was going through on her Journey.”

Colette hummed. “I actually don’t remember the mausoleum much. My memories tend to jump to helping Emil and Marta with the monsters that were attacking Asgard a couple years after that.” Her eyes shadowed a bit. “I don’t really like those memories, either. At the time, I didn’t realize you were protected from the Cores’ influences by the Yggdrasill’s mana. After the way Marta just about blew up at me for grabbing Ventus’ Core...”

Lloyd ran a hand through Colette’s hair, tightening his grip on her. “I’m sorry. I did a lot of things that year that I’m not proud of.”

“You and me both...” his wife murmured. “I’m sorry...”

He sighed, amusement catching the edges of the sound. “A thousand years later, and you’re still apologizing every time I turn around...”

Zelos chuckled, even as Colette let out a little giggle. “I guess so...”

Lloyd smiled at her, but the darkness behind her blue eyes wasn’t gone, and that... That worried him.

Something in Colette was dying, or had already died... And until Lloyd knew _what_ , he couldn’t do anything to fix it.

But he would try, because he couldn’t lose Colette. It would break him.

And a broken angel was a dangerous thing to let loose on the world he’d vowed to protect. Mithos had proven that, and Lloyd had no wish to follow in the blonde half-elf’s footsteps any further than he already had in becoming the Eternal Swordsman.

He would not destroy the world he’d worked so hard to protect and rebuild.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I updated exactly when I planned to. Yes. Clearly. -unamused-  
> On another note... Hoping to get basically all of the rest of the chapters up this morning. (Don't hold me to that; I have a LOT to do this morning and may have to stop partway through.)  
> Also... I have no idea what's going on with the Great Coffee Deception. Colette and Lloyd got away from me there.


	31. In Memorium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lloyd manages to keep away from Mithos' insanity.

Zelos was apologizing.

It was somewhat distracting, really, and Lloyd certainly didn’t want to screw this up... Not that he wanted the redhead to apologize.

He understood. Really.

Because he’d been there before, time and time again. Alicia, Mithos, Presea, Yuan... He’d been there. He’d had to watch, had to put the final nail in the coffin, had to live with the knowledge that those lives had been snuffed by his blade as surely as if he’d buried it in their hearts.

And so he ignored the man behind him, single-minded in his task, and emotionally numb as a new name and set of dates joined the dozen already upon this side of the memorial, just another one among nearly a hundred that littered every side of the stone.

His fingers trailed over the carved names as he hesitated, not wanting to complete his current task. His heart ached as he looked over them, the people who had a place of honor on the front of the memorial, and he wished, idly, that he would never have to add to it again.

And yet... he doubted that he would be so lucky. It was just his nature to hold his friends close, and though he and Zelos were all that were left of those who’d reunited the two worlds... Well, he knew that it wouldn’t stop the humans from mucking things up eventually.

He would continue to add to this side of the memorial, he was quite certain of that. Perhaps not soon—he hoped and prayed that his remaining family, biological and adoptive, would remain with him for at least another few millennia—but eventually... eventually, it would be needed.

And right at the top of the list, in a place of honor that he had a feeling the half-elf would have denied that he’d earned, was Mithos Yggdrasill. Lloyd had made his lists very carefully, and when he’d looked over those who would be placed on this side of the memorial, it was clear (to him, at least) that Mithos would be the first name carved upon the stone.

He had made Lloyd who he was, just as much as Dirk or Kratos had. The conditions he’d inflicted on the worlds, his desperate goal that never would have reached fruition...

And it was the very memory of Mithos that gave Lloyd the strength to finish the most recent name on his memorial. Because he would _not_ take Mithos’ path. He refused to do so, even as his heart ached, forever broken into pieces that would never fully heal. The ring on his left hand was never so heavy as it was when he finished his work and looked over his list.

MITHOS YGGDRASILL  
PRESEA COMBATIR  
SELES WILDER  
REGAL BRYANT  
LILIA LORENCIA  
MARTA LUALDI CASTAGNIER  
EMIL CASTAGNIER  
SHEENA FUJIBAYASHI  
YUAN KA-FAI  
DIRK IRVING  
GENIS SAGE  
RICHTER ABEND  
RATATOSK  
TENEBRAE  
RAINE SAGE-ALDERASH

With a deep breath, the dam finally broke, tears flowing freely as Lloyd traced the most recent name on his memorial, a name he had hoped he would never need to carve. He’d hoped that he was enough, that his love would be enough to hold her in this world, and yet...

And yet, he would not have taken this choice away from her.

A part of him, which he failed to keep utterly silent in his heart as he wept, wished that she had come to him instead of Zelos. And though the redhead continued to apologize, to try to get him to speak, Lloyd remained silent, eyes locked on the name still half-covered by the fingers that had carved it.

COLETTE BRUNEL AURION

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it's not clear; Colette went to Zelos and removed her Cruxis Crystal, which we've already established is suicide.  
> This was never an easy chapter to write, but it had to be done.  
> (I'm sure it also explains how the Lloyd/OC tag got added up there. Lilia and Colette sure as heck aren't OCs.)
> 
> P.S.- The rest of the Centurions are on a different side of the memorial.


	32. A Guardian Killed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another species lost to the world forever...

Lloyd was being reckless, flying through the trees like this.

But it was fun, and distracting, and he was so sick and _tired_ of dealing with the people in Meltokio. Damn the city for managing to last over two thousand years, though it had moved to the east slightly as the original city was left to fall into ruin.

He idly considered grabbing Zelos, flying out, and dropping a supercharged Judgment on the idiots.

Hm...

Dodging the trees became less of a game, and more of a spare thought process, his weaving becoming less erratic and more fluid as he stopped whipping around every tree he saw.

The idea did have merit. If they could focus it, control the beams so that they hit one spot more strongly than anywhere else, they could destroy the mana cannon before it was finished and make a visible and _clear_ example of the city.

But they’d still have to do something about the innocents that would no doubt be caught in the crossfire, and—

He knew that whine.

Massive blue-green wings snapped wide open, the drag almost _hurting_ for a moment before Lloyd tucked his knees to his chest, hitting a tree trunk feet-first and pushing off to shoot back the other way, eyes searching the forest for white.

But it wasn’t the white he saw first. It was the _red_ , and then the white fur the red was covering.

“Noishe!”

The whine the protozoan let out was so familiar, and so heartbreakingly weak, that Lloyd felt his heart stutter even before he landed next to the arshis and got a good look at his childhood friend.

A metal tooth-laced net dug into Noishe’s body, the protozoan clearly in pain with every breath he took, and Lloyd pulled off his gloves as he began to carefully pry the metal teeth of the horrible trap loose.

Noishe whined, yelped, and made every sound of distress he seemed capable of as Lloyd worked, every little sound hurting Lloyd even more, though he knew the arshis simply couldn’t help the noises leaving him.

Noishe was dying.

The thought crossed Lloyd’s mind so suddenly that his hand slipped, the jerking of the net making Noishe yelp and thrash. And, for the first time Lloyd had ever known, the protozoan twisted around and _bit_ him.

Lloyd couldn’t help crying out, not with Noishe’s teeth deep enough in his arm that the long canines had scraped bone.

Russet eyes found large golden-brown, Lloyd fighting back the tears of both physical and emotional pain as he locked eyes with Noishe for what his heart told him would be the last time.

He needed to wrap his arm, it was bleeding like hell and _hurt,_ and he hadn’t gotten even a _fraction_ of the net untangled...

Noishe was dying. His injuries wouldn’t heal fast enough even if Lloyd could get him loose, and he’d lost so much blood already...

The arshis whined, rough tongue licking the bite mark that Lloyd was going to hide from Zelos as long as possible, because he knew Zelos would panic and heal him without thinking about it.

He _wanted_ the mark to scar. He wanted the reminder... and the proof of just how badly Noishe was hurt. Because Kratos was going to miss his old friend when Lloyd brought him to Aselia.

“I’m sorry,” Lloyd choked out, abandoning the net.

Noishe whined. Whether it was meant to be an acceptance, or an encouragement, or an ‘I’m sorry, too,’ Lloyd would never know.

He’d never had a chance to learn to understand Noishe the way his father did. The way Tenebrae could, if only because Noishe wasn’t _quite_ a monster.

And he never would have a chance. Not when he was certain Noishe was the last.

The motions were automatic, as this wasn’t something he wanted to think about. A single blade hissed out of its sheath, then slid with a frightening ease into the protozoan’s body.

A final yelp, more than likely an impulse that the arshis couldn’t have controlled, and Lloyd was left to stare at his own blade...

And the blood trickling out of Noishe’s limp form where blade entered body.


	33. Rest in Peace, Sinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Lloyd takes on his father's bad habit of tacking 'Rest in peace, sinners' onto the end of his Judgment spell.

“Rest in peace, sinners...” Lloyd found himself murmuring as the angelic mana around him erupted, meeting and merging with the Judgment Zelos had just cast in near-perfect sync.

One massive blast damn near obliterated the facility where the mana cannon was being built. Several smaller, less controlled blasts struck facilities where half-elves were being held captive, one stray beam even hitting the castle, not that Lloyd would weep.

They’d warned the people of Meltokio time and time again.

Stop researching the mana cannon. Stop enslaving the half-elves. Stop ignoring the remaining angels.

They hadn’t listened, and thus, Lloyd and Zelos had dressed themselves up just as they used to for the parties Zelos had attended when their human friends still lived, and they’d made a public spectacle of hovering over the city, Lloyd’s massive wings more than visible despite the body of each feather being roughly the same color as the sky, and Zelos’ golden-orange attracting just as much attention.

They’d warned the officials, they’d warned the researchers, they’d warned the slavers, and their warnings hadn’t been heeded.

So they’d warned the common folk away from the building their combined Judgment would strike, and they’d spent nearly twenty minutes simply gathering and building up their angelic mana to unleash the massive blast.

Not quite mana cannon power levels, even considering that much of the power was spread out between the different beams. Not even close, if Lloyd was being honest, because angelic mana was volatile, and _powerful_. The amount of mana it had taken Colette to cast an Angel Feathers was, perhaps, half the amount it took Genis to cast Fireball.

Though, Colette had never had as much angelic mana at her fingertips as he’d found he did.

Zelos had spent much of his life focusing on expanding his own stores, whereas Lloyd simply allowed it to build along with his dwarven magic. It wasn’t the same, but they did seem to feed into each other...

“Lloyd?”

He looked over at Zelos and blinked. “Something wrong?”

The redhead looked down at the blazing wreck that was all that was left of the Meltokio Royal Research Institute. “You don’t seem bothered by this at all.”

“We warned them,” Lloyd murmured. “I don’t like it, but it’s better than letting them finish that monstrosity.” He sighed, shifted, and looked over at Zelos. “Come on. Our work here’s done, and I’d like to get out of these clothes. I’m too used to my work clothes to be wearing these fancy things anymore.”

Zelos nodded once, slowly, and followed Lloyd’s lead as the brunette wrapped himself in mana, a flash of light making it seem like he’d simply disappeared.

He turned and took off toward Eruden, fully intent on returning home...

Not that it would be home much longer. He’d been there for centuries... it was time to find a home somewhere else now.

The Luin-Asgard area, while an option, wasn’t one he was extremely interested in. The desert was creeping further and further south with each year, leaving open plains behind that were slowly beginning to flourish.

In fact, he was considering the recently-established trade town of Terce. His work as a smith would pay well, he’d have something to do for a while...

The only problem was the fact that if he built his new workshop and home too close to the rapidly-expanding city, he’d be a part of it soon enough, and his agelessness would be noticed sooner. He could only claim to be a half-elf for so long before people began to have their suspicions...

But building far enough away from the city to not be overrun within the next few decades would mean a few hour’s travel.

So it was a tossup.

Try to spend a few years as if he were actually _human_ , which would also include not smithing in the middle of the night, or keep up his usual routine, but inconvenience clients.

He _enjoyed_ smithing. It kept him distracted, gave him work to do to keep his mind off of Colette and the fighting and _everything_.

“Lloyd?”

He blinked a few times and looked over at Zelos, who was flying just ahead of him so as to not be in the way of his wings.

“Yeah?”

“...Are you mad at me?”

Lloyd frowned, confused. “For what?”

Zelos looked worried, scared even. “Colette.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Oh spirits.

Lloyd gestured for the two of them to land, and dropped into a dive. He did not want to try to have this conversation in the air...

The moment his feet touched the ground, his wings changed. They condensed on themselves, becoming more solid. Fully extended, his wings looked more like they were meant to be an _idea_ of birds’ wings, rather than being anatomically correct. But Lloyd had long since figured out how to will them into a shape that might have held him in the air even if they were as solid as he.

And in that form, they easily folded against his back, the warm mana humming, pleased not to be dispersed.

Zelos had taught himself to do something similar, but where Lloyd’s wings became those of a bird and folded, Zelos’ seemed to take after an insect’s, and the segmented gold-orange wings would hang like a cape from the center of his back.

When they both intended to take to the air again shortly, there was no reason to banish their wings...

But folding them like this made things like hugging easier, and Lloyd owed Zelos at least one. Probably more than one.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been pretty distanced from everything these last couple decades...” he whispered as the startled redhead’s arms snaked around his middle, under the rather solid if still mostly-transparent and glowing wings that adorned Lloyd’s back.

“You’re not mad...?”

“No,” Lloyd replied firmly. “I just wish she had come to me. We both know I wouldn’t have been able to stop her. And...”

Zelos pulled away just enough to look at him with overly-concerned blue eyes. “And?”

“...I found Noishe a few weeks ago, caught in a monster trap. One of the nasty ones with metal teeth,” he said softly. “Even if I had managed to get him free... even if he hadn’t died from the blood loss... he never would have run again, Zelos.”

The arms around him tightened, and Lloyd buried his face in Zelos’ shoulder, though he had no intentions of crying.

He missed her. He missed her _so much_ already...

But... he’d promised his father. And Kratos was still on Derris-Kharlan, still waiting for Lloyd to bring him back to Aselia.

He’d also made a promise, a _vow_ , to Ratatosk. He would not give up that easily, no matter how badly his heart ached.

Colette would be a hole in his chest for as long as he lived... but it wouldn’t kill him. _Lilia_ hadn’t killed him, and Colette... He only hoped she had found their friends, wherever she’d gone.

He had his missions, still, and he would see them through, with Zelos at his side until such time as he could see his father again.

_“Don’t die, Lloyd... my son.”_

_“I won’t... I promise.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Lloyd and Zelos dropping a supercharged Judgment on a mana cannon. This is an idea that's been in the works for a while, for various reasons, and it will come up again and again in the future. One of the biggest turning point chapters in Book 2 involves this as well. (And thank gods, because if I'd had to spend any more time in Lloyd's head prior to that chapter, I'd have been ripping my hair out.)


	34. The Last Great Stronghold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Son of a dwarven craftsman, father of a dwarven king, and the living legacy of a dying people.

“Master Lloyd. Summons from the king.”

Lloyd turned to look at the dwarf in the doorway in confusion for a moment before he nodded. Clearly there was no material notice to go with this summons, and it wasn’t often that Athame called for him formally.

A side-effect of him raising the dwarf from a young age.

Even after all the time he’d spent in Vraelheim among the dwarves, he’d only learned the importance of his claiming Dirk as his father when a young Athame had made the decision to call _him_ ‘father’.

After all, the dwarves were truly creatures of earth and fire, and so the women were considered to be the ‘earth’ that each dwarf came from... But the men were the fire that gave each dwarf _life_ , the fire that was the source of their magic.

And so to claim one not biologically related as ‘father’ or ‘mother’ was the greatest of honors among the dwarves, because the child had deemed the adoptive parent to be a greater provider of their own earth or fire than their birth parents.

Lloyd idly wondered if he should have been calling Dirk ‘mom’ all those years. Truly, the dwarf had filled what was more the mother’s role in dwarven society, whereas his biological father, Kratos, had taken a role far more suited to a dwarven father than a human father.

He sighed to himself as he finished packing up his forge and then left. The messenger was gone already, though it seemed that there was some hustling about. That was odd in and of itself, because Vraelheim’s population didn’t fill the city as it used to... and because of the hour. It was far too early for most people to be up.

Again, Lloyd had to wonder over the summons.

But he wasn’t going to get answers by standing around outside his workshop.

Once, he might have taken to the air to cross the distance between his forge, which was in an area left abandoned by most of the dwarves, and the large central building his adoptive son had inherited from his birth parents.

Six hundred years ago, Lloyd’s forge and home within Vraelheim had been a part of the city, not on the outskirts.

Then again, six hundred years ago, the dwarves hadn’t had a king, either, and they’d only just taken in the refugees from Hviturlind, Dalmasca, and Borgarde.

Lloyd looked around as he walked through the city streets, noting the wear and tear of the buildings that simply _couldn’t_ be maintained any longer, and he felt the regret settle in his chest like a heavy stone. No matter what he did, the dwarves continued to simply... die.

It was with these grim thoughts at the forefront of his mind that he arrived at the Great Hall, the largest gathering place in Vraelheim... and the unofficial audience chamber of their king. Lloyd knew that Athame preferred to stay here, where he could mingle with and address his people, rather than in the palace that had been carved into the cavern when Vraelheim had first been founded many millennia ago.

“Ah, Master Lloyd. What a surprise ta see yeh out an’ about at such an hour!”

Lloyd paused, turned, and smiled to Master Yosher, a stonemason who, while having been taught by Lloyd, had achieved his mastery through his own experimentation with his stonework.

“Good morning, Master Yosher. And what do you mean, ‘at such an hour’?” he asked teasingly.

The dwarf laughed. “Yeh know exactly what I mean. Yeh’re usually neck-deep in yer projects at this time o’ day!”

“Aye, that he is.”

“But a summons is a summons...”

“An’ he’s ne’er ignored one before.”

Lloyd glanced over his shoulder and began to get the feeling he knew what Athame was doing. Because behind him stood the only set of dwarven twins that had been born in the last millennium, Mokie and Bykie, both of whom were Master Blacksmiths in their own rights... and though both had been trained by Lloyd, the next master to arrive had not been... Because Lloyd had _never_ trained a woodworker.

“What, are we gatherin’ outside the hall instead of in?” Master Korum asked, amused by the fact that they were all standing on the steps.

Lloyd chuckled and stepped inside, the other masters following him, and from the small gathering already within the Great Hall, it seemed they hadn’t been the first to arrive.

He was right, he mused as he walked around, taking in the familiar faces, not a single dwarf in the hall under the age of two-hundred. Athame was gathering every Master in the city. And from the number who had already arrived, it wouldn’t be much longer before they would all be in attendance.

Speaking of Athame...

A simple metal band around his head served as a crown, the only true indicator of his rank that he would accept save for in the most formal of events. Dark, burnt sienna hair hung around his head in waves, his beard kept uncommonly short and neatly trimmed. Lloyd had heard comments time and time again about how unnatural it was for a human to raise a dwarf, but as he had always pointed out when concerns were raised, he as a human had in turn been raised by a dwarf.

And Athame’s father had been a good friend. It was Lloyd’s honor to raise Arandur’s son, and not one he’d even once taken lightly.

“Father.”

He smiled and nodded his head in the only ‘bow’ Athame would put up with from him. “Gathering the Masters, I see.”

“All of the still-practicing Masters, at least,” Athame replied. “I’d be surprised you realized it, but then...”

“As the senior Master Smith, I’ve made all of their Mastery Amulets,” Lloyd said softly. “And trained a rather good portion, as well.”

The new blood from the other dwarven cities had revived the dwarven magic a little, and resulted in a new influx of Masters... but to Lloyd’s disappointment, it wasn’t lasting. Once again, the dwarves were facing extinction, and he could do nothing but stand by and watch.

“Aye... Father?”

“Yes, son?”

“I’d like ta meet with yeh after the rest o’ the Masters have left. And... I need yeh ta find a glass worker and a stonemason yeh can trust an’ work with.”

Lloyd hummed. “I’m not sure about a Master Glazier, since we’ve only got two to choose from at the moment, but Master Yosher’s used to working with me and he takes great pride in his work.”

Athame sighed. “It doesn’t have ta be a Master. Preferred, aye, given the nature o’ the project, but I don’t think yeh want ta be tryin’ ta do it yerself.”

He nodded. “In that case, Miss Ernola. To be frank, I can’t stand Master Brackem, to whom she was apprenticed, but she’s _very_ skilled, and I’ve started setting aside the metal I’ll need to forge her Amulet.”

This seemed to amuse his adoptive son greatly. “She’ll be a Master before she’s needed then.”

Lloyd frowned to himself as he started to consider what Athame could possibly need them for.

He’d come to Lloyd first, which was a bit of a clue, as Lloyd had spotted three other Master Smiths in the room before himself, and he’d specified for Lloyd to choose people he could _trust_. And normally, after a request like that, and given the fact that he was the only family Athame had left, he’d assume it was burial-related.

Except... why a glass worker instead of a wood worker?

This bothered Lloyd greatly, even as Athame called for order and stood upon the dais at the end of the hall, hands raised to draw attention and indicate that he was ready to speak. Everyone was here, waiting with baited breath for whatever announcement their king had summoned them to give.

Silence descended over the hall as the king lowered his hands, looking over all of them slowly, grimly. “Thank you all for coming. I know some of you had already begun your days,” a faintly amused glance Lloyd’s direction, “and most of you were preparing to. I apologize for the timing, but I did not wish to call upon everyone at a more inconvenient time.”

Lloyd smiled slightly, proud of his son’s enunciation. Though Athame would always carry the accent every dwarf seemed cursed with—and, admittedly, even Lloyd found himself speaking with the accent fairly regularly—and though he made no attempts to curb it when speaking informally, speeches like these were always delivered clear and free of it.

“I confess I’ve spent much time of late worrying about our people, our culture. It is not a pleasant thing, to realize that our people are dying. And though I am aware of how little we can do to stop it... I do not wish for us to fade into obscurity as the elves seem so desperate to do. I wish to see to it that the achievements of our kind be preserved. We are a people of earth and fire, of creation, and I would have that creation be our legacy, a mark on this world to last for millennia after we are gone.” Again, Athame glanced at Lloyd, and the lone angel among the dwarves understood what it was his son wanted from him right now, in this moment.

And with a single nod and a sorrowful but determined smile, Athame had all the permission he needed to continue.

“Our culture and the knowledge of our magic will live on in my father. But our techniques, our legends, our histories cannot be left to him alone. Vraelheim is the last great stronghold of the dwarves. Let it stand as a testament to our presence in this world. The bodies of our people may fade... but the memories of our people must not. Let this be our last battlefield, the last enemy our people face as a whole.” Athame stopped and thumped a fist to his chest over his heart, the traditional salute from one warrior to another. “I’ve never known a dwarf to go down without a fight... and now should be no different.”

For a breathless few seconds, it seemed as if the Masters weren’t going to be on board with the plan.

And then, in a great wave usually only seen in a war rally—and thank the _spirits_ Lloyd had only ever seen _one_ of those, and the ‘war’ had lasted a bare few months—dozens of fists rose to their owner’s chests, Lloyd relying on his instinctual reactions to keep pace, because he knew full well what came next.

“Dwarven vow number one; Let’s all work together for a peaceful world.” Athame was smiling as he joined the hall in reciting the next two.

“Dwarven vow number two; Never abandon someone in need. Dwarven vow number three; Two hands build more bridges than one.”

And as Athame dismissed the gathering of Masters and gathered Master Yosher and not-yet Master Ernola, whom had been retrieved by a messenger during the king’s speech, Lloyd felt the hope re-kindling itself in his heart.

The dwarves may die... but in his heart and in their legacy of creation, they would live on...

Creation...

An idea formed with all the unpredictability and suddenness of a lightning strike, and he heard Origin chuckling in the back of his head. _“I can get onboard with that. And, perhaps, Gnome and Ifrit might help as well...”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a note, we're right around the 1800 mark here. Not two thousand years old, and the dwarves are almost gone... :( Poor Lloyd.  
> (Also, I've noticed (finally) that a lot of the chapter titles start with 'The Last'. I wish it didn't have to be so.)


	35. The Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelos brings some bad news.

“Digging in the dirt again, Lloyd?”

The brunette leaned back, wiped a scarred forearm across his forehead, and looked up at Zelos.

It was bright and sunny and _warm_ inside the second circle that housed his sanctuary, rather unlike the frostbitten plains that had taken over the continent that, once, had been a great desert.

And from the heavy traveling cloak Zelos had draped over his arm, he’d taken the slow route to the sanctuary.

Lloyd had felt him the moment he’d passed the first set of markers, though he hadn’t known who was intruding at the time.

“I figured I might as well clean up the flowerbeds. They’ve been doing pretty good, after all...” He stood and sighed. “So what brings you this far east? I thought you’d been sticking to the western continents.”

“Eh. You know me. I can’t stand the cold. I’m worried, though, about the Yggdrasill. The humans have cut a pass through the mountains nearby, and... Well. You know how the Gaoracchia Forest likes to _move_. Creepy, weird-ass trees and all...” Zelos stopped and looked Lloyd in the eye, something the redhead had seemed to be avoiding. “If anyone feels like exploring the woods, they _will_ find the tree.”

Lloyd sighed, closing his eyes as he thought about it.

Zelos was right. The Yggdrasill had been safely out of human reach until the world decided to rearrange itself (though he mostly blamed the oddly sentient trees of the Gaoracchia Forest, since as Zelos had pointed out, they did tend to actually get up and move when it suited them to do so), and it _needed_ protection.

He turned and opened his eyes, glancing over the markers that sat at regular intervals around the small temple he’d built over the ruins of the Martel Temple.

“What if I made another set of markers?”

Zelos hummed, clearly considering the idea. “But if you’re too far from the tree, then...”

“I don’t think I’d tie them to me like I did with these,” Lloyd said, gesturing to the visible markers, as well as the less-visible set that made the warm, temperate dome around the temple. There was a third set, even further out, that acted as his alarm system. And all three were tied directly to his dwarven magic.

“Would you be able to tie them to someone else though, since I know it’s based in dwarven magic? And who would you tie it to, anyway?” Zelos asked.

“Martel.”

The two of them turned, Zelos clearly startled by the newest addition to the garden, whereas Lloyd just turned and offered up a smile.

“Verius... I was starting to wonder if you’d moved off, as well.”

The fox-like spirit shook herself. “No. I’ve remained here, though I’ve spent much of the last millennium asleep... The loss of Colette hurt you terribly, Lloyd.”

The brunette winced. “I’m sorry...”

“No... I’m glad to feel your heart this light again. And while I may have chosen to rest so that I might not need feel your heartbreak, I admit I had not intended to sleep quite this long...” The spirit paused here and leveled something just short of a glare on Zelos. “And _you_ need to come by more often. I may have been asleep, but I haven’t felt your heart near here since Colette was buried. And that, I am fully aware happened almost a millennium and a half ago.”

Zelos grimaced and turned away, even as Lloyd turned to look at his friend in shock. “Zelos?”

“I’m sorry. You may never have blamed me for her death, but... I can’t really bring myself to be at her grave. It’s just... A little too much,” the redhead said quietly.

“Even out here in these magnificent gardens Lloyd has cultivated, your heart is heavy,” Verius said. “Why is that?”

The once-Chosen of Tethe’alla sighed, exhaustion in every line of his frame. “There’s a mana cannon in the city of Thor. I’ve been trying to warn them off of it for _years_ now, since I caught wind of it while they were still in the brainstorming stage. I think I’ve just made things worse, though.”

Lloyd’s mood plummeted, even as he took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Have you given the final warning yet?”

“No. And, remember... you’ve always done it in the past. I figure... since everyone who can still find the tomes from when there were four of us running around has labeled you as the leader...”

Lloyd nodded. “I’ll head out in the morning. If things are this bad already, I can’t imagine that they could get that much worse over a few hours. And I’d like to at least finish this patch before I have to leave...” he added, gesturing to a set of flowers that had been dug up altogether. They’d need to be replanted before he could actually go anywhere.

And...more than likely... it would be weeks before he got back.

He and Zelos were going to have to raze another city to save the Yggdrasill... And speaking of which...

“So I was right, and I should be able to anchor the markers I want to put around the Yggdrasill to Martel,” he said, looking at Verius. The spirit nodded.

“Yes. Dwarven magic works well with spirits... not so much with elves, though, as Origin tells me the inhabitants of Heimdall found out many millennia ago,” she replied. She sat down and tilted her head to the side. “Your heart is heavy now,” she added worriedly.

Lloyd sighed, knelt, and got back to work on his flowers, even as Zelos meandered around the gardens. “I’m not looking forward to the destruction we’ll more than likely be unleashing on Thor.”

Verius nodded. “It is not an easy thing, wreaking havoc to protect the peace. But it is a necessary evil. A mana cannon cannot be allowed to fire.”

“Not while we’re still alive,” Zelos agreed as he walked past, a bundle of flowers Lloyd knew he’d picked from the garden in his hands as he headed for the temple.

Lloyd smiled a bit to himself, even though Verius seemed saddened by Zelos’ actions.

If he was feeling up to paying his respects to their friends, then Lloyd could still hope that he’d hold on alongside him.

 


	36. The City of Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...And thus did Atlantis--Oh wait, we're not quite to that point yet.

It was still early in the morning when Lloyd dropped out of the upper atmosphere, the simple trousers and tank top he’d been wearing now replaced by brown boots, black pants, and a thigh-length, dark red coat.

No scarftails.

He hadn’t worn scarftails since the Meltokio mana cannon just after Colette had given up.

Letting go of the mana keeping him hidden, Lloyd landed in the middle of the city. He was hoping the dramatics would keep this from blowing up too horribly even as he strode up toward the castle, wings condensed and tucked against his back but still on full display.

It had been a long time since last he’d been forced to do this. Meltokio, and Terce, and then a city called Vanaheim, which had been built roughly where Altamira had once been. And now... Now Thor would get the same display of dramatics that had failed in Meltokio and Terce... but succeeded in Vanaheim.

He had a feeling that this would be another round of Meltokio, though. Truly, there was only so much he and Zelos could do, especially with the news Zelos had brought.

The City of Thor had a mana cannon. However, its operational status was another story altogether... and a story he would rather not have to find out the hard way.

He reached the doors to the castle and was unsurprised when he passed the guards without interference. He and Zelos may have been the last angels on Aselia (he’d get ahold of Kratos yet, dammit), but their presences were still felt heavily to this day, as they were the symbols of order and peace... and the harbingers of death for those who would not listen to reason. The result of so many years spent protecting their world with everything they had?

Where the angels flew, the humans usually paid attention. They’d kept the knowledge of their capabilities easily accessible, after all... In fact, one of Lloyd’s journals was in a library in this very city.

He’d have to retrieve it on his way out, he mused as he strode through the halls of the castle, making a beeline for the throne room. Normally, he’d take enough time to allow a steward to announce his arrival... But these weren’t normal circumstances, and if Zelos’ contacts were to be believed, he didn’t have the time for pleasantries.

However, the guards and soldiers within the castle had less sense of mind than the guards outside, who had simply stepped aside and allowed him passage. Even a warning flare of blue-green mana feathers didn’t always work on those within the castle.

He didn’t want to hurt them, truly, and they were all frightened enough as it was. The closer he got to the throne room, the more who simply looked on in terror and fled.

He hated intimidation tactics.

He was just reaching out to the doors that would lead to the throne room when the woman raced up to him, out of breath, frantic, and clearly intent on stopping him, as she grabbed him and yanked him away from the door with every ounce of strength she had in her... Which, for a half-elven woman of her build, was a rather impressive amount.

He managed to shake her off, taking note of silver-white hair and green eyes. He’d have to deal with her later...

He’d just placed his hands on the doors again when the woman slipped between him and them, fear in her eyes... but not _of_ him.

“Sir, the king isn’t here!”

Lloyd paused and _felt_ , the mana at his fingertips reaching out for hers even as his eyes narrowed. “Where is he, then, and why do you insist on barring my path?”

A harsh swallow, but the faintest traces of relief in her eyes and mana. “His Majesty is hidden away below the castle. His guards saw you coming... They’ve been expecting you for days now. If you step through these doors they will kill you.”

“You little traitor!” Clanking armor behind him had Lloyd looking over his shoulder, even as the mana of his wings reacted to the threat, his wings becoming a shield between him and the half-elf and the guards who’d caught up to them.

Every word that had fallen from her mouth had been the truth.

Lloyd shifted, one wing deflecting a crossbow bolt even as his eyes sought an escape route... There! “On my back,” he ordered the woman, turning so that she may comply even as his wings shifted, wrapping around him as if to form a shield. “And be prepared to shield your face,” he added as his wings whipped open, a volley of blue-green feathers, sharp as knives, soaring through the air.

The dozen or so guards fell under the attack, his own personal variation of Angel Feathers, and the next attack was aimed directly at the window he was already running towards.

The shattering window had drawn the attention of many bystanders already. To see an angel jumping out of it with a half-elf upon his back? If he’d been looking for attention, he’d certainly gotten it. And...maybe, just maybe, it would serve as a warning.

“Is there anything else you’d like to share with me while we’ve got the chance?” Lloyd asked as they rose into the sky, his wings easily carrying them well above the range of the current weapons Thor was using.

“Anything in particular that you want to know?” the woman asked. “I knew when I moved to stop you that I wouldn’t be welcome back... might as well make my betrayal as complete as possible.”

Lloyd grimaced. “The mana cannon. How close is it to completion?”

“It was completed months ago, and is ready to be fired at any time. The king hasn’t found anything to fire it _at_ yet, but I have no doubt that he will, soon,” she replied, the weariness in her voice saying that she wasn’t happy to be sharing this information... and not because of the act, but because of the very information being conveyed.

And just as she hadn’t wanted to say it, it was the last thing Lloyd had wanted to hear.

“There’s... there’s also a summon spirit locked in cryofreeze,” she added after a moment. “Aska, I think. I don’t know what they wanted with him... But I know that there was some kind of experimentation going on.”

Oh, no... While that explained why Luna had been asking after Aska again, it was very bad news if they managed to fire off the mana cannon. So close to it, and without another summon spirit or two to support him, Aska would quite simply be absorbed by the cannon, and would effectively die.

“Great. So we’ve got a fully functional mana cannon on our hands, a summon spirit in danger of dying if they fire that thing, and a king who’s tried to effectively assassinate me. This just gets worse and worse the longer I’m involved... Ugh... Damn, damn, _damn_...” He _really_ didn’t want to have to do another coordinated Judgment with Zelos, but...

The woman’s giggles distracted him.

Mostly because they were so very unexpected in the current circumstances.

“Good joke?” he asked, somewhat more sharply than he’d meant to.

“Angel. Holy being of light. Cursing.”

...Yeah. That would do it. And, to be frank, it was just amusing enough to get him out of the near-panic he’d worked himself into.

“There’s only two of us left, it tends to happen a lot,” he admitted. She’d been so helpful already, he might as well offer her knowledge in exchange. “This... isn’t the first time we’ve had to deal with a mana cannon.”

“You... really don’t like that they’ve built one... do you?”

They were over land again, flying almost directly south toward the Yggdrasill. “Roughly sixty-five hundred years ago, a mana cannon killed the Giant Kharlan Tree that supplied the world’s mana. Back then, every living being in the world required mana to live,” he explained. “That was before my time, even. When I was a teenager, I was part of a journey to recombine the world that had been torn apart to preserve the remaining mana. We used a mana cannon then to destroy a rampaging, mutated version of the tree. It was dismantled immediately after, however. This... this is the fifth mana cannon to be built in my twenty-five thousand years of life.”

“What happened to the other four? You said the one was dismantled...”

“The second and third, Zelos and I destroyed. The fourth, Vanaheim dismantled on their own after I gave them a bit of an ultimatum. Destroy it, or Zelos and I would do it for them. Now... If the king of Thor won’t allow me an audience, then he’s chosen his city’s fate.”

“There’s not going to be much left of Thor when you’re done, is there?” the half-elf asked softly.

But Lloyd snorted. “How much damage do you think two angels by themselves can do?” he asked.

“My father told me an old elven legend when I was a child, that claims an angel rent the world in two. And you said yourself a moment ago that you put it back together.”

...Oh.

Lloyd couldn’t bring himself to speak more on that subject. Not when the half-elf was right, so very, very right...

An angel with the power of the Eternal Sword had, indeed, torn the very world asunder and spent four thousand years trying to resurrect his dead sister.

Lloyd could have taken Mithos’ path, but he hadn’t. He _wouldn’t_.

“Is there anywhere in particular where you’d like to be let down?” he asked. “I’ve taken you from your home, and Zelos and are about to attack it... The least I can do is leave you someplace of your choosing, rather than my own.”

The woman was silent for a while, watching as the world below them went by. “That forest is rather large...” she said absently.

“It is. It was known as the Gaoracchia Forest, once. Though my friend and I still refer to it as such...” Lloyd paused, then shot a wry smirk over his shoulder. “Don’t go telling anyone, now, but the oldest trees in this forest are sentient. And if the mood so strikes them, they will uproot themselves and _move_. They’ve done so in the past... hell, there are trees still scarred by the Ozette massacre that have moved hundreds of miles from where Ozette was when I was a teen to the grove closest the mana tree, Yggdrasill.”

“You’re kidding!”

Lloyd shifted carefully, looking the woman in the eye. “Nope. I can show you.”

Curiosity alight in her expression, it seemed for a second that she would accept. Except, then the solemnity set in again. “I’d love to, but... I think... You have better things to do than bother with little old me and my curiosity.”

Lloyd fought hard to keep the disappointment from his face. Especially since she was right, and he did have things to do. But that wasn’t going to stop him from giving her a good aerial view of the Yggdrasill. And they were so close already...

“I really hate to do this, especially as we’re already past it, but... There was a village back there, near the coast. You asked me where I wanted to go...”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Lloyd told her. “And... it gives me an excuse to mimic a vulture for a few minutes.”

“...Mimic a vulture...?”

Lloyd chuckled and shot into a thick fog, the mana around him giving him more than enough warning of potential obstacles. He knew it would clear rather quickly, and the view of the Yggdrasill’s valley...

The woman’s gasp, the unadulterated wonder in her voice, told Lloyd that this had been worth it.

“My goodness... I’ve never seen a tree so large...”

Lloyd smiled. “That... is the Yggdrasill, the source of all mana in the world. I’m its last mortal guardian... Which is why Thor cannot be allowed to fire the mana cannon. The sheer amount of mana that a single shot would require could very well kill the tree outright.”

“I see...” A pause as they flew another wide arc over the valley, and then, as Lloyd shifted and headed back north toward the village she’d pointed out, she spoke again. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

 


	37. Corellia Cantrice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd makes a return to society, and bumps into a familiar face.

Russet eyes darted from building to building, from the warehouses on the docks to the office buildings of the city officials to the schoolhouse and then the little shops that lined the main street. He didn’t stop moving, walking from place to place, surveying the entire little town.

It had been over a thousand years since the last time he’d opened up shop aboveground. Almost seven hundred years since he’d last lifted a hammer and wielded it and fire and magic to turn a scrap of metal into something that could be used to protect... or harm.

Lloyd was ready to return to the forge, he’d decided. And... After the disaster that Thor had turned into... He could use the distraction.

Doromir wasn’t a large city. But it was a major waypoint for the travelers of the world, and that meant that there was a lot of traffic.

Lloyd found a warehouse down by the docks and leaned against it, taking the time to look around and smell the salt on the breeze.

He missed Eruden. He’d enjoyed living just a few miles from the town, enjoyed bringing his work into the village to be sold or shipped off, enjoyed getting new and complicated orders...

Lloyd Aurion had always been a simple man, and no amount of angelic mana, dwarven mana, or money (and good _spirits_ did he have a lot of money; he certainly would never be wanting in that regard) would change that.

“Um... Excuse me?”

Lloyd blinked at the vaguely familiar voice and glanced over at the owner, blinking again when he recognized her... and her mana signature.

The silver-haired half-elf who’d stopped him in Thor was giving him a rather confused look. Though, she seemed to have realized that she was staring. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I must be mistaken...”

She turned as if to leave, and Lloyd reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t have anywhere I need to be.”

The woman froze, back ramrod straight, and then slowly, oh so slowly, turned around to look at him again with those wide green eyes.

“But you’re human...”

He smirked, and let go of the tight loop he’d had his mana circulating in for a moment before pulling it back in again.

A moment was all the half-elf needed, her confused expression shifting to wonder. “How...? But you haven’t aged a day! And your wings—“

Lloyd laughed, and pushed himself away from the warehouse wall. “It’s about lunch time... What do you say I treat you to lunch? I bet I could answer a lot of your questions while we eat.”

She looked, for a long few seconds, like she was going to accept, only to slump. “I... shouldn’t. I’m on my lunch break, but if I don’t get back to the boathouse by one, I’ll be in trouble, _again_... It’s hard enough getting a job around here. I can’t afford to lose this one... I’m sorry...”

Lloyd crossed his arms. “I’ll keep track of the time for you. Trust me, I know a thing or two about the half-elf brand of curiosity. I grew up calling one my best friend and his older sister my professor... Ha, actually, I still refer to Raine as ‘the Professor’ over a millennium and a half after we buried her.”

The woman laughed. “Well, if you’re certain... Though I really think we ought to correct a rather grievous oversight from our last meeting.”

Lloyd blinked, then smiled as he realized where she was going with that comment. A rather more elaborate bow than necessary—he’d been hanging around Zelos too long, a part of him mused—was followed by a far more modest introduction. “Lloyd Aurion, at your service, ma’am.”

The woman giggled. “Goodness, where did you _come from_?” she managed to ask around her laughter. “Corellia Cantrice, Lord Aurion.”

Lloyd winced. “Don’t do that. I swear I’m not any sort of nobility. It just so happens that the other surviving angel _was_ nobility, so I’ve picked up some of the oddest habits. So... Where would you like to go for lunch?”

Corellia looked taken aback for a moment, even as she turned and frowned at the town in general. And Lloyd knew the cant to that particular frown. Her facial expressions were similar enough to Presea’s that he could guess her thought processes rather well.

“And don’t even think about prices. Just food.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—“

Lloyd shot her a look that managed to silence her. “I’ve got more money than I know what to do with. Side-effect of not _needing_ to eat. Or sleep. I might as well use it when I can.”

One slow blink, then another. Then Corellia was chewing on her lip. “...You really don’t mind?”

He shook his head. “Lead the way. Besides... If I go through with my recent half-baked plans, I’ll be bringing in even _more_ money that I _do not need_.” He stopped and sighed. “Why do I do this to myself...?”

Corellia giggled, then started off at a rather respectable pace. “We’d best hurry then. While the food is magnificent and the staff efficient, it will take time for our orders to be made and eaten if we’re going to Albertson’s.”

Lloyd grinned and jogged after her, easily falling in step with the half-elf. “So, might as well get started... Pick a question, one question, and we’ll start there.”

The wicked grin Corellia shot back at him really ought to have been his first warning.

He barely paid any mind to the establishment she led him to, so involved was he in answering her questions. Their food came and was consumed in between questions and answers, and Corellia’s various comments to herself in regards to the information he was sharing with her.

True to his word, he returned her to the boathouse just before one, and as Corellia stepped within to get back to work, he found himself grinning.

Such a strong woman, to take everything that had happened to her and bounce right back. So curious, so understanding...

He’d purchased a lot upon which stood a building that was slated to be demolished within the month just a couple hours after leaving Corellia at the boathouse, and was already walking the plot of land which would be both workshop and home for him for however long he chose to stay.

Talking with Corellia had given Lloyd hope that perhaps it was past time to insert himself into human society again. Perhaps... he would find a part of himself here that he’d lost.

Yet, something still bothered him greatly, he found as he continued to pace around the condemned building.

And it had a lot to do with what Corellia had brought up the last time they’d spoken, a topic she’d broached again today. Though mentioned only in passing, on their way to the boathouse, she had wanted to learn more about the worlds being split and brought together again.

Lloyd had, over the centuries, used and even borderline _abused_ the power that the Eternal Sword gave him. It terrified him, really, to think about how often and how much he used it, but... As he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, a part of him took solace in the fact that he was still holding firm to his promise never to take Mithos’ path.

He had not forced Zelos to sacrifice his mana to become a living seal on Origin as a means of safeguarding his power. But still...

Lloyd reached back, deep into his mind, seeking out the connection he knew was there, would probably be there until the day he died.

_‘Hey... Origin...?’_

He felt the presence on the other end of the invisible tether react, much like a dog’s ears would perk up when you called their name.

_“Lloyd. Is something wrong?”_

Lloyd took a deep breath to center himself, and then ‘spoke.’ _‘If I ever fell to abusing the Eternal Sword’s power the way Mithos did, you’d take it away from me... right?’_

 _“If it was within my power, of course. You know full well why I could not simply reclaim it from Mithos,”_ Origin replied. _“But, what brought this on?”_

Lloyd let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. _‘It’s just... Right before Zelos and I destroyed the mana cannon in Thor... I pulled a half-elf woman out of the castle. She’d helped me, and I wasn’t going to leave her there, but... she brought up Mithos... and the tales the elves tell their children of the angel who rent the world.’_

Understanding pressed on the edge of his mind, and sympathy.

Feeling unsettled still, though quite relieved, Lloyd leaned on that mental presence, grateful that for all Origin was still bitter towards Mithos, he had been willing to forgive... and give _him_ a chance.

Taking another breath and opening his eyes, Lloyd eyed the building in front of him one last time before leaving the lot to find someone who would be willing to demolish the current building for him.

He needed that space clear so he could build on it... and he had plans to draw up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Now everyone's met Corellia.


	38. Fire and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd takes a chance on a curious half-elf.

It was well into the afternoon when she came by. They’d crossed paths many times since Lloyd had settled in Doromir, but it was usually during the lunch hour.

Therefore, he was rather surprised when he stepped out of his workshop to answer the insistent ringing of the bell he’d placed on the shop counter, only to find that the woman standing on the other side of said counter was the very half-elf he’d had lunch with just earlier that day.

Corellia, it seemed, was just as shocked to see him, though she’d looked quite cross when he’d first spotted her.

He offered up a grin. “Sorry, I don’t exactly have someone to man the front of the shop while I’m in the back working,” he said, gesturing to the sign next to the bell which read ‘RING UNTIL ANSWERED, PLEASE’ _._

Corellia snorted. “I’m surprised you could even hear this thing back there. I _heard_ the racket you were making.”

Lloyd laughed. “Such is the life of a blacksmith, I’m afraid. But as an angel, I have a much larger hearing range than humans or elves, and that bell’s been very carefully made to emit a tone at an exact frequency that gets my attention really quickly.”

“In other words, the faint ‘ding, ding, ding’ I hear isn’t what you’re hearing?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Actually, it’s at a high enough pitch that it would give me a headache to listen to it for more than a couple minutes. I’m _used_ to the noise of the forge. That bell, though...” He shook his head. “Anyway, given how strict your supervisors are, I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit.”

Corellia’s eyes widened, and she started digging through her bag. “Oh, goodness! I was so surprised to realize you were the blacksmith that I completely forgot!” A respectable stack of papers was placed in front of him. “It seems Mr. Delphine was hoping that you’d be able to make the parts he’s been shipping in from Kelduan. The specifics are there, as well as a request to meet him tomorrow for lunch to discuss it.”

Lloyd found the letter in question and looked over it, eyes scanning through and finding the time the man had requested. “Fairly early lunch...” he noted.

“Yes, he does usually take off around eleven-thirty.”

He smiled a bit. “I’ll be happy to meet with him, but I’d much rather share my actual lunch with you, you know.”

Corellia colored a bit. “I don’t want to lose you out on a job...”

Lloyd chuckled. “Remember I told you I’m not exactly wanting for money? I’m the only blacksmith still alive that can use dwarven forging techniques. I won’t need those skills for this order though,” he added. “And no, this won’t be my first time fabricating ship parts.”

Corellia smiled. “That’s something of a relief to hear. Well, I should get going. I have six more stops to make, and I’m expected back by four.” She was already stepping backwards toward the door, though she paused as she neared it. “Do you... mind if I come by after work?”

Lloyd grinned. “Not at all! I could do with some company and, if you don’t mind, that is, a second opinion on the loft,” he replied, gesturing upwards with his thumb to indicate what he was talking about.

Corellia nodded. “I guess I’ll see you in a few hours then.”

“See ya later!” Lloyd called after her as she left.

He hadn’t been lying. He’d worked on ship parts before, and nothing here looked entirely unfamiliar, though he was questioning some of the bits and bobs that seemed to be oddly sized for what he assumed they were for.

But, ship-building wasn’t his job. Smithing was.

And he hadn’t actually been contracted to make the parts yet, anyway, so he would likely get a chance to talk about it with Mr. Delphine the next day...

Stashing the papers away under the counter in a box he kept for that exact reason, he returned to the workshop. He hated making instruments of war, but the lord who’d commissioned the weapons he was currently forging had come all the way into town to have them made, and they were more ceremonial than anything else, something about his children and a birthday.

The problem was, it was an express order, not something Lord Orenterre had been entirely comfortable with, but Lloyd had assured him that completing it within the time frame given—a single week, which would culminate in pick-up the next evening—was within his capabilities.

Except, that had been before three more express orders and a bad shipment of ingots had gotten in his way. He’d wasted an entire day using dwarven magic to purify and strengthen the metal of the ingots, and then the extra orders had taken up another day.

While he could do all of the detail work overnight, the actual forging had to be done during the day, when everyone _expected_ him to be making an unholy racket in his shop.

Such was the reality of living inside the city limits, though, and Lloyd was well aware of how much time he had left, and what he needed to do in order to complete the lord’s order to _his_ standards... which were likely far higher than the lord’s.

Lloyd was smiling to himself as the next-to-last blade was placed with the others in preparation for sharpening, and was still quite happy with his progress when he heard it.

Five quick rings of his bell, and no more.

His smile widened, because he had a feeling he knew exactly who it was. Still...

He needed to set this blade-in-progress somewhere that would be out of his way, and yet still quite on hand for when he returned to work. And that required him to not be hammering it flat.

It took him nearly ten minutes to get his work out of the way, but he found that he’d been correct when he stepped out of the workshop and back into the front of the building.

Corellia stood to one side, and at first glance appeared to be examining one of the more ornamental weapons he had hung up on the wall. He smiled to himself as he realized what she was really looking at, though.

“I’m surprised you can see the Vorpal Blade, even using that naginata’s reflection.”

The half-elf jumped, turning around in a fright and taking deep, heaving breaths. “Oh... good... _spirits_! Don’t do that!”

Lloyd chuckled. “You rang,” he pointed out.

She shot him a sour look. “And you scared me half to death.”

He just grinned and waved toward where the Vorpal Blade hung, the mana that kept it cloaked from most eyes dispersing and revealing the gleaming blue sword in all its glory. Corellia’s eyes were locked on it, and she walked over to get a closer look.

“You called this a... vorpal blade?”

He nodded. “Yes. It’s the only one of its kind in existence. The Vorpal Blade is one half of a pair of swords known as the Material Blades. Combined with a Diamond Ring and an Aionis Ring of the Pact, they become the Eternal Sword... the weapon Mithos Yggdrasill used to separate Sylvarant and Tethe’alla at the end of the Kharlan War... and the same weapon I used to reunite the two halves of the world and germinate the Great Seed of the Giant Kharlan Tree... a seed that grew into the Yggdrasill I showed you decades ago.”

The wide-eyed wonder on Corellia’s face told him that he’d made the right choice in entrusting her with his past.

“You said it’s one of a kind... but then you said it’s part of a pair?” she asked, giving him an amused look that somehow managed to convey the message of ‘challenge accepted’.

Lloyd smirked, a confirmation that she was free to do as she pleased.

She wouldn’t find it the same way she’d found the Vorpal Blade. The blue sword was ice, and ice reflected light just as metal did.

The Flamberge was fire, which gave off its own light.

Green eyes raked over the displays, not focusing on the weapons and armor and other assorted metalwork, but on the spaces _between_ everything.

Except, her eyes kept coming back to a shield.

A shield that was, in and of itself, a part of the disguise.

He knew she’d seen through the illusion when the grin began to spread across her face, excitement taking the place of her confusion and curiosity.

“That shield’s shadows are wrong,” she pointed out.

Lloyd chuckled and waved a hand again. The physical motions weren’t necessary to control the mana masking the swords, but he _did_ have a bit of a flare for the dramatic at times, and this... this was too perfect an opportunity to pass up.

The shield vanished altogether, the brilliant red Flamberge hanging above Lloyd’s head with the tip pointed toward the ground, as opposed to being settled horizontally as the Vorpal Blade was.

“Ice and fire,” Corellia said, her voice barely more than a breath upon the wind. “That’s why I saw the Vorpal Blade as a reflection, why the shadows were wrong for the shield...”

Lloyd nodded. “I could hide them better, but if someone’s bright enough to see through the illusions... well.” He stopped here and shrugged. “I have loaned them out before. Never both at the same time, and always with the understanding that they must be returned to me upon the death of whomever I’ve loaned them to, but they don’t see enough use if I keep them wholly to myself.”

“But, aren’t they the Eternal Sword?”

A shake of his head. “Not like this, they aren’t. They are parts of it, but they exist just fine on their own. I used to use them to fight, myself... Haven’t actually done a lot of fighting lately, though. The monsters either avoid me or greet me like an old friend. Then you have to consider that I typically fly anywhere I need to go, so bandits aren’t usually a problem, and even when I _am_ traveling by more common means, showing off my wings usually sends any potential problems running for the hills.”

Corellia nodded. “That makes sense, I suppose. And... I guess you haven’t actually used the Eternal Sword in a while?”

Lloyd nodded. “Last use was over a century ago.”

“Not Thor?”

He winced, and from the look Corellia gave him, she’d noticed.

“That... wasn’t supposed to happen,” he confessed. “Zelos and I have done it before, of course. Meltokio, Terce. But... Well. It was just a few centuries from Meltokio to Terce, but it’s been a millennium since Terce. And our angelic mana... it gathers within our bodies, collects, grows stronger, more potent... We hadn’t realized just how much power we had at our fingertips. We were just going to destroy the facility housing the mana cannon, and let the rest of the excess mana do fairly arbitrary damage around that area... which means yes, the castle would have been hit as well.”

“But you went overboard.”

“We did.” He wasn’t _quite_ wringing his hands yet, but it was damn close. “I probably could have destroyed the mana cannon by myself. Or Zelos could have done it. Both of us hitting the city was an excessive use of force... And to make things worse, we lost Aska because of it.”

“Aska’s a summon spirit.”

“They can die just as surely as humans or elves.”

There was silence in the moments that followed, and then Corellia walked over to the counter, laying a hand over Lloyd’s, which were clasped in a mockery of prayer.

“Aska isn’t the first spirit you’ve lost.”

He shook his head, shifted as if to free his hands and grab a certain pendant that had never left his personage since its gifting, but then hesitated.

Did he dare share this part of himself with her yet? Did he dare _not_? She understood so much already... And the open-ended way she’d phrased the statement that was just shy of being a question...

He pulled his hands free and lifted the pendant free from his neck, mana shifted and dispersing as yet another illusion was dispelled for the half-elf woman in front of him.

He set the pendant on the counter, facing her, and took a deep breath. “I told you already that the Yggdrasill is the second mana tree Aselia’s known. It’s guarded by a spirit named Martel... but the original Giant Kharlan Tree was guarded by a spirit called Ratatosk...”

 


	39. A Queen Among Women

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't see this wedding coming, you need to read the tags better.

Lloyd Aurion was, perhaps, the luckiest man in Doromir. Well, in his opinion at least. He knew there were plenty of men and women who detested his very existence, and he could care less about them.

He was getting married.

Well, _again_ , but Corellia knew about Colette (and Lilia), and though they’d originally meant to hold to the dwarven tradition of living together, raising any children together, but _not_ marrying...

They’d made friends as the days passed. The minor lord for whom Lloyd had needed to work through the night for to complete his order. A couple captains, whose ships Lloyd had made parts for, and whom Corellia had brought to his shop on their request. A trio of half-elves who’d come into town to get away from Kelduan had wandered into Lloyd’s shop by accident, but had each left with their own new treasure.

Harold, the lone male of the three, had seen through the illusion hiding the Flamberge, and as he’d proven himself to be a swordsman in his own right, the brilliant crimson blade had been gifted to him with the same rule Lloyd gave everyone to whom he lent the blades.

Elysia, the youngest, had spotted a broken necklace laying on Lloyd’s workbench, a necklace Lord Lyle Orenterre had thrown in with a number of other half-destroyed items of value. She’d recognized the stone in it as a gem the elves called a unicorn’s tear, and Lloyd had gladly finished fixing it and gifted it to the healer.

Darbe, who at first had seemed to simply be following along behind the other two without any real purpose, had left with her companions initially, and then returned with a flower-shaped crystal, a set of worn golden rings, enough ivory to make any respectable lady of the court jealous, and a painting of what appeared, at a glance, to be some kind of strange, flat wind chime.

But when the project was finished, Darbe showed him what it was truly for, and he had to admit to being impressed by how much the cymbal could enhance her mana control.

And now, months later, he counted the three among his friends... which had led to today. Their friends had found out about what he and Corellia were planning, and had demanded an actual _wedding_.

Thus it was that Lloyd found himself walking the impressive gardens of the Orenterre Manor, which had been strung up with ribbons and flowers and the delicate, painted paper lanterns he’d insisted upon when Elysia had grabbed up Lyle’s three daughters and begun planning the decorations. The wedding would be small, all things considered, and rather more informal than Lyle’s eldest had wanted.

And he... he was actually dressed up, _again_ , for the second time in as many decades. Lyle had brought in his tailor for both Lloyd and Corellia, and Lloyd had found himself quite pleased with the man due to how well he’d listened to Lloyd’s requests.

“I must admit that I’m impressed. You clean up quite nicely, Master Blacksmith,” Lyle said as he strolled across the yard, a large hound at his heels as was often the case. Though most of the Orenterre dogs would stay in their kennels, the one Lyle called ‘Rhodey’ refused to do so, and followed him around wherever he may go.

Lloyd sighed, shrugged, and reached down to offer scratches to Rhodey, much to the hound’s delight. “The other angel that still flies was nobility, a long time ago. He dragged me along to so many parties that there are days I remember those times and find myself grateful they ended within a couple centuries. I don’t think I could still be doing that now, not thousands of years later. The dwarven court was bad enough.”

“I wasn’t aware the dwarves had anything resembling a monarchy,” Lyle said.

“The monarchy came and went with the times. In the centuries I lived alongside them, they didn’t, not until right near the end when the four remaining cities all combined, the inhabitants of three all making the long trek to the fourth. They elected their first king by popular vote... and the position was passed down from him, to his son, to his son, to his daughter, to her son, whose wife died giving birth. King Arandur followed his queen when the little prince was but a few years old... and having stood by the kings and queens of the dwarves since the first, it fell to me to raise the boy,” Lloyd admitted. “I had the great honor of being called ‘father’ by King Athame... the last of the dwarven kings.”

Lyle was silent for a moment as they found their way to the pavilion that had been set up for the wedding. “The dwarves are gone, aren’t they?”

Lloyd took a deep breath. “At present, I am the last dwarf-kin whose fires yet burn. The rest have been returned to the earth from whence they came... save for Athame, who requested a special burial so that when the gates of Vraelheim fail and city is found, those who find it will know what it is they have uncovered.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lloyd blinked, and looked over at Lyle in confusion. “What for?”

The graying noble smirked. “Your bride is going to have my head if I don’t get you smiling again before she comes down the aisle.”

Lloyd chuckled. “Eh... I’ll be grinning like an idiot the second I see her. I did for Colette, and for Lilia the day I gave her... Well. I explained dwarven courtships, right?”

“All I got out of my daughter was something about dwarves not marrying,” the man replied.

“They didn’t. And I never married Lilia. I helped her raise her son, I supported her when she couldn’t make ends meet on her own, I gave her gifts made by my own hand, and she allowed me to share her house and her bed. Any dwarf who’d watched the two of us would have said we were a couple, and never looked for rings.”

“And that was what you’d been planning with Corellia?”

Lloyd nodded. “Yes. The elves don’t really marry in the human sense of the word, either, and though she’s been living among humans for decades, she _was_ raised by her father, who was an elf. So we were planning to effectively split the difference between the elven and dwarven customs and go with that.” A wry smirk got aimed Lyle’s way. “Your daughters, on the other hand...”

The noble chuckled. “Yes, they do get rather pushy when they don’t like something, don’t they? I must say that I’m impressed with how quickly you all managed to put things together, though.”

Lloyd shrugged. “Five weeks is better than three.”

“You must be joking.”

“Nope. Colette and I had just come this close to dying, and we needed each other more than anything. I just wish I’d been enough to keep her going.”

“And... you’re brooding again.”

Lloyd laughed, paying no heed to the thankfully small list of guests as they entered the pavilion to witness the marriage that would be occurring today. “I wouldn’t call it brooding...”

“You’d better not be, or I’m going to have a very annoyed bride on my hands.”

“Our hands,” Harold corrected Lyle as he joined the two of them near the altar. “Though I have to ask, who’s presiding?”

Lloyd smirked. “And _that_ is exactly why I succeeded in talking Lizbeth into _not_ inviting the entire town.”

Harold and Lyle both gave him wary looks, and Lloyd gestured toward the woods at the edge of the property. He could see Verius, Origin, and Martel with ease due to his angelic sight, but the human and half-elf would have to squint just to see Verius, whose bright fur made her the most visible of the three.

Harold gasped. “That fox...”

“It’s not alone, either. Though I’m not sure if the green one is my imagination or not,” Lyle added.

Lloyd shook his head. “The fox is Verius, a summon spirit whose powers are over the heart and the deepest wishes within each heart. Her power wanes and waxes as the harmony between the various communities does. But she officiated at my wedding to Colette, so I wanted to invite her to this one... even though a certain _other_ spirit got first dibs on officiating today.”

“Oh?”

Lloyd chuckled. “The one you can probably see easily is Origin, spirit of creation. We have a pact that’s held strong for nearly as long as I’ve lived. When he found out we’d forgotten to invite him to my wedding to Colette, he kinda got a little upset. So when Lizbeth insisted on this...”

“You offered to let him officiate,” Harold finished, impressed.

“And the blue-haired lady in green currently making her way across the field?”

Lloyd froze, blinked, and then looked over at Martel again.

He’d seen her back in the forest, but the shadows had made her hair color difficult to discern. With her crossing the distance between the trees and the pavilion, though, it was quite apparent that she had, indeed, changed her appearance since last he’d seen her.

And he _knew_ that shade of blue. He remembered it so clearly. How could he not, when the last time he’d seen it, he’d brushed it aside so that he could close sightless silver eyes?

“You’re staring, big brother.”

Lloyd blinked twice, then shook his head. “You surprised me, little sister. I just saw you a few weeks ago, after all. I wasn’t expecting the color change,” he admitted, brushing a bit of now-blue hair over her shoulder.

Martel’s face colored a bit and she ducked her head. “Do you like it...?”

He smiled. “It’s lovely. Not _quite_ your color though.”

The spirit giggled. “Always honest.”

“You’d hit me upside the head with that staff if I weren’t,” he pointed out.

“Too true. She’s already knocked me upside the head a few times this morning,” Origin stated as he and Verius joined them as well. “Though, that might have been more because Verius and I were arguing than anything else.”

He couldn’t resist rolling his eyes and shooting Lyle and Harold a look that screamed ‘what can I do’? “I don’t think I’ve ever known you two to _not_ argue. The only other spirit Verius had trouble getting along with was Ratatosk, and that...”

“That was aimed more at Emil than me,” Verius confirmed. “Hm... I think the ladies are ready to begin.”

Lloyd took a deep breath, anticipation swelling as he realized it was nearly time.

Lilia’s jewelry set had been silver and sapphire. Colette’s had been gold and amethyst.

Corellia’s was copper, because gold wasn’t her metal at all and she had a mild allergy to silver, and because bronze was too dark. Copper, emerald, and peridot to match her bright green eyes.

Her dress wasn’t white.

She’d insisted on that, claiming that her hair was just a shade off of white, and she didn’t want her veil and dress to simply turn her into a solid spot of _white_. Lloyd had quickly seconded that, and told Lizbeth of Raine’s wedding, and the fact that the Professor had worn a lavender gown.

Corellia’s was a soft peach, with green embroidery. The copper bridal ensemble he’d made for her shone, harsher than her dress, but a nice complement, her tiara rather more elaborate to make, though also more elegant in design.

Colette, trapped at sixteen from the moment she’d accepted her Cruxis Crystal to the day Zelos had destroyed the stone, had looked like a princess on their wedding day...

The woman who stood before him now, from whom Lloyd could not tear his eyes, was a queen, with all the grace and elegance of the elves and the determination of a human.

It was probably a good thing that he and Origin had a mental link... because he didn’t hear a word the spirit of creation said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I hate trying to write weddings. Also, I have no idea what it is with Lloyd and the friggin' jewelry.


	40. Lost Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twenty-six hundred years, and Lloyd is the last of the Angels upon Aselia.

Lloyd couldn’t stay in Doromir all the time.

He just _couldn’t_. And Corellia, bless her soul, understood that, and even before they’d married, had been holding his mail for him for when he returned from wherever he’d flown off to most recently.

This time, it was just a quick trip to the sanctuary, to clean up the gardens and tell Colette about his new wife and the little boy just starting to toddle around the house.

He’d taken his time flying back. Corellia hadn’t been expecting him home _that_ quickly, and he’d wanted to drop in on Martel... who still hadn’t changed her hair away from the blue that he associated with Yuan.

So when he landed in the back yard, strolling toward the door at a relaxed pace only for Corellia to meet him at the porch, he knew something had happened.

“Cora?”

She held out an envelope that had been opened, pain in her expression. “Zelos finally sent a reply to the wedding invitation. Lloyd...”

Russet eyes scanned the paper, not comprehending what he was reading until he’d read it for the fourth time.

“No... no, I just _came_ from the sanctuary, why...”

He stopped, looked at Corellia, and it took her only a single word for him to return to the air.

“Go.”

He was back in the air in the next second, wide wings carrying him high above the city and far enough into the sky that none of them would have been able to see him.

Lloyd flew through the skies like something had possessed him, desperate to get back to the sanctuary before Zelos could follow through with the suicide he’d planned out in the letter. After everything they’d been through, _together_ , didn’t he realize how much Lloyd needed him?!

_Falling snow over a sleepy white town, a locket heavy around his neck, a smile on his lips as he turned to look at the man lagging behind. “I trust you, Zelos.”_

_Once again, russet eyes scanned a blanketed city, though this time he couldn’t feel the cold. “Lloyd? What’s really the matter?” A sigh, a quiet grumble, and then blue-green light filled the space around them._

_Red hair spilled over his shoulder as Zelos held onto him like a lifeline. And Lloyd didn’t say a word, because Zelos needed the shoulder to cry on._

_Zelos apologizing, over and over, as the numbness finally left Lloyd and the tears began to fall, Colette’s name forever engraved on his memorial. Lloyd finally shook his head. “Stop apologizing... It wasn’t your fault. Her mind was made up.”_

_Zelos sounded sheepish, and_ exactly like Colette always had. _Lloyd groaned, fought down the heartache at her memory and the grimace at the mess they’d made. “We are not telling Dad we sank a whole damn city to get rid of a mana cannon.”_

So many years, so many _centuries_ at each other’s sides... And Zelos chose _now_ of all times to give up?!

Lloyd landed at the sanctuary and raced inside, not even noticing the garden as he spotted the memorial stone, and the redhead in the pink and white coat that was just _laying_ there...

He couldn’t have, he couldn’t _be_ , not already, not...

The utter lack of a mana signature told Lloyd he was already too late, and he collapsed next to Zelos, pulling the man into his arms and brushing a stray lock of red hair out of his face.

It was no use. A red Cruxis Crystal glinted on the ground nearby, having fallen from Zelos’ hand when Lloyd had shifted him, and Lloyd couldn’t fight the tears this time anymore than he had been able to for Yuan or Colette.

Zelos was gone, and as tempted as Lloyd was to keep his Cruxis Crystal, keep all that was left of his best friend, his brother in all but blood...

He couldn’t bring himself to be so cruel to Zelos. Still...

He reached out and touched the crystal, pouring just a little mana into it, and wasn’t surprised when the apparition of his friend appeared, clearly unsurprised by Lloyd’s presence.

“Why?! After everything we’ve been through...”

“We may as well be banging our heads off a wall for all the good we’re doing. It doesn’t matter how many times we stop them, they’re still going to fight, and waste mana, and kill each other...” Zelos stopped and shook his head. “And I don’t know how you keep doing it. You know it’s just going to break you when she dies, if she hasn’t already.”

Lloyd realized, suddenly, just how long had passed since his marriage to Corellia.

And Zelos was right. If he’d married a human, she would have likely died by now. Except he hadn’t... but that didn’t mean...

Lloyd clenched his teeth and shook his head. “I _can’t_ give up! Zelos...”

The apparition sighed and shook his head. “If you’re looking for an apology, you’re not getting one here. Not for this. It was one thing to look after the world while the Yggdrasill was still growing... Now? Now it’s just an exercise in futility, and you know it.” He stopped and let his head hang. “Lloyd... Please, don’t do this to yourself. We’ve done the best that we can.”

Lloyd couldn’t speak, the words lodged in his throat and tears in his eyes as he realized what the ghost of his friend was saying.

Zelos wanted him to...

He was tempted, he realized. So, _so_ tempted. Determined not to simply abandon Corellia, but after...

If there was an afterlife, he’d see them all again. Colette, Genis, Dirk, Ratatosk—if ‘dead’ spirits even went to the same place dead mortals went—they’d all be there, and... So would his mom, and Corellia if he waited...

Except...

_“Don’t die, Lloyd.”_

He’d promised. And this... this wouldn’t just be _dying_ , this would be _suicide._

He shook his head and shifted, drawing a knife gifted to him by Athame in the last years of his son’s reign. Likely one of the last weapons forged by an actual dwarf before they’d died out, he knew.

“Lloyd...”

“Take care of Colette for me?” he whispered.

“...I don’t think I’m going where she went, bud.”

There was regret in Zelos’ voice as Lloyd struck true, red crystal shattering in front of the memorial.

The apparition of his last friend faded, and Lloyd felt the weight of what he’d just done settle on his shoulders.

He’d have Corellia for a few centuries yet. She may have been well over two hundred already, but she was a true half-elf; the daughter of an elven man and a human woman. And even when she was gone...

There was still Kratos on Derris-Kharlan. If he could just establish contact, he could bring him back to Aselia... Or... maybe just have Origin send _him_ to Derris-Kharlan. Either way...

But, no, he couldn’t go. He’d made a vow to protect Aselia, after all, even if Ratatosk had used the last of his mana to create the pendant Lloyd had sworn that vow upon.

But that didn’t mean he had to give up on Kratos. The next passing would be in two hundred years, at the twenty-eight hundred mark.

And so Lloyd steeled himself to bury Zelos’ body and engrave the newest name on the memorial.

Two hundred years, and a wife and child to love and care for in the interim.

It _had_ to work this time.

 


	41. A Rose By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd has had many, many sons over the course of his life. Becoming father to a little girl, though... There's always a place for firsts.

The baby was early.

That was the first thought to enter Lloyd’s mind as he ran through Doromir, dodging everyone who happened to be in his way and trying to get to the medical clinic.

The house had been empty, save for Darbe, who’d been there for the sole purpose of telling him to get his ass to the doctors.

He reached the clinic and managed to get the door open without breaking anything. Harold and Elysia were at the desk, the healer looking tired and harried, and both turned when he ran in.

“Cora?!”

“She and the baby are fine, but Doc Alyss isn’t letting anyone in right now. She even kicked _me_ out,” Elysia said. “And I’ve been the main healer to see to your family since I moved to Doromir.”

“Is he the father?”

Speaking of the doctor...

“I am,” Lloyd replied.

Alyss frowned at him, then nodded decisively. “You seem to have some kind of mana control. Get in there—your daughter’s mana core won’t stabilize and Corellia’s mana isn’t a good enough match. Yours should be.”

Lloyd grimaced, and was in the room she’d indicated as quickly as he could move without risking doing damage to the building.

They’d been worried about this when Corellia had started having dizzy spells whenever she used the slightest bit of mana, and now it looked like they’d been correct. Their little girl—a _girl_! He’d had so many sons over the years, all adoptive save for his and Cora’s firstborn, but never a daughter—had a very different mana signature from her mother.

Corellia was exhausted. That much was obvious from the moment Lloyd stepped into the room. Dark circles around her eyes, pale face... Green eyes rose from the bundle in her arms, hope lighting up within them as Lloyd closed the distance between them in seconds.

The moment the little girl was in his arms, he could _feel_ her. Her mana, so similar to a feel he’d only just begun to notice when he’d been forced to send Kratos away...

There was none of the earth-and-fire feel to her mana that he felt in his son’s. No dwarven mana to temper the elven... and... _angelic_.

Lloyd rocked her unconsciously, unable to look away from the precious little girl’s face as she slept, her breathing deepening and heart beat strengthening as her magical core did.

She had angelic mana.

It was impossible not to recognize it, not after so long bearing it within himself, feeling it in Colette and Zelos and... once upon a time... Yuan and Kratos.

He knew the feel of it, but he didn’t have a clue what it meant for his little girl.

“Zelda.”

He frowned as Corellia’s somewhat breathless voice broke through his thoughts, and he glanced over at her in confusion.

She offered up a weak smile. “Zelda Aurion... Her hair’s _red_... ‘m not sure how...”

Zelda.

 _Zelos_.

He whispered her full name, smiling softly as he carefully adjusted the little hat on the baby’s head.

Indeed, little tufts of dark red hair already adorned the little girl’s crown, and he chuckled to himself. “My dad had red hair,” he added.

Corellia giggled a bit. “I’m glad you made it back... I was starting to worry...”

“I’m sorry. I hadn’t even thought about it... Alyss and Elysia did point out that the dizzy spells were worse when I was away,” he said softly. “And... Cora... she’s got angelic mana. It’s _hers_ , it’s not residual from me, she’s producing and I don’t know _why_ —“

“Shh...”

Deep breath. In, two, three, four, hold, two, three, out...

“Sorry.”

His wife giggled again, and put a hand on his arm. “We’ll figure it out, love. I promise. And in the meantime, I think you need to introduce our darling little girl to the crowd that’s no doubt gathering in the lobby.”

Lloyd gave her a sheepish grin. “You don’t mind...”

“Go, silly... I got to hold her for _hours_ before you got here.”

He chuckled and stood up, walking over to the door with a lightness in his step that he hadn’t felt capable of a moment ago.

The moment he slipped through the door, he heard a gasp. “Corden! Look!”

Lloyd turned around with a grin on his face, even as his son came running over as quickly as his little legs would carry him.

“Is that...?!”

“Shh... You don’t want to wake your little sister, do you?” Lloyd scolded the three-year-old gently as he knelt.

Corden’s grin was just as wide as his was, the wide-eyed wonder on his face a memory that Lloyd vowed he’d never forget. “She’s so tiny!”

“Haha, you were tiny, too, when your parents brought you out of the birthing rooms to meet all of us,” Lizbeth said, the aging woman hobbling over from the bench she’d been sitting on.

“Did you and Corellia decide on a name?” Harold asked.

Lloyd smiled, letting Corden into his lap so the boy could hold his baby sister, and she still remain close to her father. “Zelda. Zelda Kritya Aurion.”

 


	42. Melodies of Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd delves into his memories of Mithos as Corellia's strength fades.

A part of him wondered, as he headed up the steps with a fresh cup of broth, if Zelos had been right.

He was going to break again, just as he’d broken when Colette had rejected him, when Lilia had died, when Colette had died...

And yet, he refused to leave.

Corellia would die whether he was here, or away, and so Lloyd chose to stay, to try to nurse her back to health even though he knew there was nothing to be done.

Silver eyes shifted toward him unseeing, but a twitch of the mana bond between them told her exactly who had just walked into her room. “Lloyd... You should be at the tree... The passing...”

“I’m not leaving you, Corellia. Not when I can’t find our sons to tend to you in my stead,” he insisted.

She sighed, but didn’t continue to argue, allowing him to help her with the broth so it wouldn’t spill. They both knew she would be lost to the world soon, and though Derris-Kharlan had come into range over two years ago, Lloyd had yet to even attempt to make contact. His family was his greatest concern right now. His dying wife, his missing sons...

He left the empty cup on the tray at her bedside and picked up a piece of wood. Whittling had never been his greatest skill, but it kept his hands occupied, and kept him close enough to Corellia to hear her heartbeat.

“You’ll give me a dwarven burial, won’t you?” His wife’s quiet question hung in the air for a long few moments as Lloyd fought down the heartbreak and told himself that he would _not_ cry.

Not yet, at least.

“Of course, love.” He’d already etched the stones that would generate a stasis field, keeping her body from decaying as he worked to forge her armor, build her casket, and carve her headstone. The work the whole family should have been doing _together_ , but the boys were missing, very possibly _dead_ , and Lloyd would not leave Corellia’s side to try to track them down right now.

A long few moments passed before she spoke up again.

“Play for me?”

Lloyd paused in his whittling, then sat the half-finished figurine to the side and stood, walking over to the windowsill where an odd little pronged flute of sorts hung. He’d made the instrument for Corellia when Zelda had been a toddler, and she’d then taught him and their children to play it.

It reminded him of Mithos and Genis, and days spent at Altessa’s house when they didn’t realize the little half-elf boy among them was really the angel that wanted them all dead. And the memories hurt... but it was a good kind of hurt. A nostalgia, not... not the desperation of trying to hold onto someone who was fading far too quickly.

Memories of better times brought to mind the tunes that Mithos had tried so hard to teach Genis, only one of which the silver-haired half-elf had managed to learn.

But Lloyd remembered the tunes, and Corellia had told him time and time again that he had a gift for the instrument. So he settled back into his chair with the flute, ran through a basic set of scales the same way he _always_ did, and brought one of the melodies to mind.

It wasn’t a perfect rendition of the somewhat haunting lullaby Mithos had played for them, but it became better as he played, and he knew it would take little practice for him to find the correct notes. The lullaby faded into a soft folk song, and then a spirited little tune that had brought Zelos to his feet, dragging Sheena and Presea along with him as he decided a dance was in order.

Lloyd had danced that night, too, both to simply enjoy himself, and to stay close to Colette for when she inevitably tripped.

Another softer song, and then one that Mithos had said his sister had created for _him_ , specifically, a strong song that Lloyd had heard both compassion and outrage within... a song fit for the angel who had been willing to tear the world in two to try to save it, before its creator had been murdered.

“...I don’t think I’ve ever heard those before...” Corellia said as Mithos’ song came to an end. Lloyd lowered the flute and took a shaky breath.

“Mithos’ sister, Martel Yggdrasill, for whom the spirit of the mana tree was named, had a set of panpipes she loved to play for her little brother, and she loved to create her own melodies that meant something to her and her friends. Mithos tried to teach Genis, in the days when we didn’t know who he was. I still remember the melodies,” he told her. Another deep breath. “Mithos tried to teach Genis six.”

“That was only five.”

Lloyd chuckled a bit, and raised the flute to his lips once more, playing the last song, though he didn’t wish to.

Mithos had admitted that Martel had only ever played it when one of their friends died, as her own sort of send-off.

And, as surely as if there were magic in the very song, Lloyd felt that weak, atrophied tether to his wife snap as the song came to an end.

The tears fell freely from his eyes as the last notes faded from the air.

He moved automatically, laying the flute on the table beside the bed and going downstairs to retrieve the stones, which were placed around the bed, Lloyd whispering in dwarven as he activated the runes.

Then, still unthinking, he left, taking to the sky and shooting straight to the sanctuary, touching down in the garden gently just an hour after leaving Corellia’s side.

He had a new name to add to the memorial, though his eyes caught on the last few he’d added as he knelt.

COLETTE BRUNEL AURION  
ATHAME HONDURIN-AURION  
ZELOS WILDER  
ZELDA KRITYA AURION

Fingertips brushed against the last, and Lloyd took a deep breath. “Your mother will be joining you soon, sweetheart... Please... watch over your brothers while I send your mother off.”

Another deep breath, and he bowed his head. “I’ll find them. Even if all I find are bones, I _will_ find them. I swear it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL5WQpUoAM4x36w9J2C2LzOe4WTGv-_8Lr
> 
> ...That playlist was not originally meant to serve this purpose, but it did, eventually.
> 
> Also, as it's not explicitly stated, I feel urged to note that yes, Corellia is another victim of the 'Curse of the Stars'. That one thing Yuan had that prompted his suicide ages ago? Yeah. This wasn't originally planned, but it slipped in here anyway.
> 
> I'm stopping here for now, at the end of the sixth Arc. One Arc left. Six parts.
> 
> We start meeting the Phantasia characters soon. Which means we're definitely almost done.


	43. Contact With Derris-Kharlan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd finally makes contact.

It was time. Past time, really, but Lloyd had had greater concerns at the last passing, and he knew that his father would have approved of what he’d spent that time doing. After all, had Kratos not abandoned an organization he’d helped _build_ to protect his own wife and child?

“Big brother...”

He wasn’t surprised to see Martel. Nor did her violet hair shock him. She’d traded out blue for violet centuries ago, on a suggestion from Corellia while his wife had still been able to see.

“You can’t expect me to give up, Martel. Dad’s the only angel left,” he reminded her.

She sighed, nodded, and disappeared, even as Lloyd reached out to touch the bark of the Yggdrasill. The spring had moved further south, resulting in a small lake just a few hundred yards away, and Lloyd let the sounds of the waves lull him into a trance-like state as his mana joined with that of the great tree.

He could hold the bridge open for weeks on end like this, and he had every intention of doing so now.

Perhaps the only problem with holding this trance, however, was the fact that... well... he wasn’t really paying that much attention to anything outside of keeping the bridge open. But he _felt_ it, the moment the mana reached out from the other end, the moment the connection was opened.

“Whoa! Who are you?!”

Lloyd gasped in surprise and relief, opening his eyes and stepping away from the tree as he looked to the side, where the voice had come from. A boy stood there, curly blonde hair hanging around his face, and steel gray eyes just as shocked to see Lloyd as the angel was to see _him_.

It wasn’t Kratos who stood beside him as a mana image, but he was sure that _someone_ would be able to find his father. At the moment, though, he was just thrilled that it had finally worked.

The boy in front of him couldn’t have been more than twelve, and the resemblance to Mithos was rather shocking, though from the stuttering bits and pieces of words coming from his mouth, he was definitely not as good with surprises.

Lloyd offered up a smile “It’s alright,” he reassured the boy. “I’ve been trying to get the connection opened for a long time.” The boy blinked at him, then at the tree, a smile beginning to pull at the edges of his mouth, something like awe in his expression... and so, _so_ much curiosity.

“So... This was supposed to happen?” he asked, looking to Lloyd expectantly.

He chuckled. “It’s just a type of mana interference, really. You know how when water mana and light mana combine, they create a rainbow?”

“Yeah. So it’s like that... And it felt kind of like a bridge,” the boy said, more to himself than to Lloyd. Then he stopped, surprise taking over his expression as the implications of that statement got through to him. “You’re... not from Derris-Kharlan, are you?”

There was no use in hiding it, not when the boy had already figured it out. “No. My world is called Aselia. And, I was actually trying to contact someone specific, but after this many centuries, I’m just glad _someone_ finally opened the connection from that side,” he admitted.

“Oh? Who were you looking for?”

Lloyd gave the boy a critical once-over. Normally, he wouldn’t ask such a task of a child, but... He could just barely feel the mana that was supporting the other end of the bridge. This was a half-elf, with enough elven blood that he would still be alive four, even eight hundred years from now. And that clothing... He was dressed down, but it was still clear that the boy was nobility. So...

“His name is Kratos Aurion,” Lloyd told him. “He’s an angel, who left Aselia tasked with the protection of Derris-Kharlan’s mana tree. Though, given that the two trees are now both well into their thousands, I guess it’s not surprising that he’s left.”

The boy nodded, determination in every line of his body, and Lloyd couldn’t help but smile despite the fact that he reminded him so _very_ much of Mithos. “I’ll see what I can find. It’s not a familiar name, but... History isn’t exactly my best subject.”

Lloyd chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Um... May I ask your name? And, uh...” The boy paused and gestured to the tree. “About the bridge...”

“We’ve got a few years yet before Derris-Kharlan and Aselia become too far apart to make the connection. But both of us have to be present to keep it open like this.” He then offered up a small bow. “And my name is Lloyd.”

The boy grinned. “Nice to meet you, Lloyd. Okay. Kratos Aurion. Got it. I’ll come let you know whenever I find something.”

“I’ll be here,” he confirmed. Though he really ought to...

The boy had retracted his mana in the act of turning and racing away from the Derris-Kharlan tree, and Lloyd couldn’t help but laugh as the image of the enthusiastic child faded.

Perhaps next time they spoke, Lloyd would get the boy’s name. In the meantime, however...

The top branches of the Yggdrasill were excellent places to watch the sunset from.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. This is it. The last arc.
> 
> I'm putting 4 parts up now, and saving the last two for tomorrow, just to try to space them out a little.


	44. A Boy Named Dhaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd really is in somewhat desperate need of company.

Somehow, Lloyd really wasn’t surprised when, just after dawn, he felt the bridge forming once again. He reached back on instinct, and spotted the half-elf boy within moments of the mana impression forming.

The clear confusion on the boy’s face was easy to see, even from Lloyd’s high perch.

“Up here,” he called, making his way down through the branches with the sure-footedness of many, _many_ decades of practice.

“Eek. How did you even get up there?” the boy asked. “And, ah... is it really okay for the trees if we just do this whenever?”

Lloyd couldn’t help but chuckle at the questions. “I’m an angel, I’ve got wings. Honestly, I spend more time _in_ the branches than under them. And no, it won’t harm the trees any.” He jumped down from one of the lower branches, ignoring the boy’s cry of concern and landing with a deceptive ease. “Though I really don’t suggest trying to mimic me. I’m a lot less breakable.” He gave the boy a warm smile. “So, since I didn’t catch it yesterday and you now have me at a disadvantage, what’s your name?”

Confusion replaced concern. “Yesterday? But it was just this morning.”

What?

Lloyd stared at him for a moment, then remembered some of what Corellia had told him of her research she’d done in Thor. “Ah, it’s not the same time for us. It’s dawn right now for me; the last time we spoke, it was sunset.”

The boy hummed, clearly intrigued. “I wonder... Twenty-four hour days?”

“Yup.” And, Lloyd _still_ hadn’t gotten a name out of him...

“So how many days to a year?” the boy asked, clearly excited by the mystery he wished to solve.

Lloyd fought back the urge to laugh, but he was still smirking, and he knew it. “Three sixty-five, not that I can keep track of them very well. Days tend to blur together when you don’t sleep a lot.” He could. He _should_. But... the nightmares of real life were enough. He didn’t need those that came in the dark of sleep to add to the mess.

And, from the boy’s victorious grin, they’d found the discrepancy. “Three twenty-six for us!”

So, Derris-Kharlan had the shorter orbit... Still, Lloyd couldn’t resist the urge to tease the kid who so resembled Mithos. “Do you often forget to introduce yourself?”

A single, wide-eyed blink, and then the boy promptly turned a bright shade of red, curly blonde hair falling in front of his face as he bowed his head. “Dhaos! My name’s Dhaos! I’m sorry, I’m just so used to everyone knowing already... stupid mistake... can’t believe I totally forgot...”

Lloyd laughed. “It’s alright. I’ve been in the ‘everyone knows my name’ boat before... though not always for good reasons.” While he’d taken pride in being able to say he’d helped regenerate the world... well. Having the Palmacosta Blood Purge tied to his name, not to mention some of the things he’d done to end the mana cannon threats... “Anyway, moving on... I’m guessing you didn’t find anything?” He wasn’t _expecting_ anything at this point. Not after only a few hours.

Dhaos shook his head. “Not yet. My tutors kicked me out of the library. I’ll have to keep looking tomorrow.” The boy paused here. “Do you... mind if I do this every afternoon? My tutors always tell me to get exercise and socialize when they kick me out, and the tree here is a half-hour’s walk from the city, so...”

Lloyd smiled, remembering Lyle Orenterre’s boys and younger girls always running away from their tutors. “I certainly wouldn’t object to the company. It’s been rather lonely for me of late.” Ever since his sons had died about a century ago... Lloyd shoved that thought away, and chuckled. “I _am_ the last angel on Aselia.”

The speed at which Dhaos connected the dots honestly surprised Lloyd. “ _That’s_ why you’re looking for Kratos! You said he was an angel too!”

He nodded. “That’s right. I’ve been trying to make it to the tree every passing, in the hopes of gaining company again.” A wry smirk. “And I guess I got what I was looking for, if not exactly _whom_.”

Dhaos grinned, almost _bouncing_. “So, how’d you learn about the mana bridge? Has it always been here?”

Lloyd hummed, looking up at the branches as he considered whether he truly wanted to delve into those memories or not. Making up his mind, he looked at Dhaos again.

“Are you expected anywhere soon?” he asked.

Dhaos shook his head. “No. I’m usually left to my own devices from the time I’m released from my studies to when I’m expected for dinner. And _that_ isn’t for another four hours yet.”

Lloyd nodded, then stepped forward and reached out, pulling the mana around him as he placed a hand on Dhaos’ shoulder.

Solid, thanks to the unique mana interference the trees were causing.

He lifted a surprised preteen into his arms and jumped, wings snapping out and flapping once, twice, to carry them up into the branches where Lloyd carefully set the boy down again.

Four hours... he’d only give himself three, he decided as he lounged in a fork between branches. Dhaos, settled against the trunk, didn’t seem too afraid of the height, though he’d clearly been startled by Lloyd’s actions.

The angel closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“When I was your age, these mana trees didn’t exist,” he started, wings folded against his back because he didn’t feel up to banishing them. “And Derris-Kharlan was anchored to an Asellia that was split into two—Sylvarant and Tethe’alla.”

A glance at Dhaos revealed an already captivated half-elf. “But all life requires mana to live.”

Lloyd sighed. They’d been afraid of that; it seemed Ratatosk was right, and Derris-Kharlan was still chained by mana.

Still... “Indeed. And that was the entire reason why Aselia was split. So... do you want the long version of the Regeneration story, or the short version?”

Dhaos’ grin, excited for what promised to be an epic story but with the grim slant of determination that said he wanted to know so he could better protect his people, told Lloyd enough even before the child spoke.

“All of it.”

Lloyd nodded his approval. “I guess I’ll begin when I was seventeen, then. It was my best friend Colette’s sixteenth birthday, and the Day of Prophecy...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Lloyd doesn't specify it--because he just doesn't think about it, due to how familiar he's gotten to using mana as a sixth sense--but no, not every branch overlaps enough for him and Dhaos to both be sitting there. He's finding the overlapping branches without thinking about it here; later on Dhaos gets to tell people why that is both terrifying and impressive.


	45. The Last Journal of Kratos Aurion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd probably should have seen this coming...

Dhaos was a prince.

It had taken Lloyd almost three years to figure it out, but the little things had slowly begun to add up, and Lloyd had known enough royalty over his many centuries to be able to figure out what Dhaos wasn’t telling him.

It seemed the both of them were trying to pretend that they weren’t _exactly_ what they were. Lloyd, while having told the whole, unaltered story of the Regeneration and the Ratatosk mess that had followed, had been selective in the tales he told of the millennia after. And Dhaos... It was clear that Dhaos feared he’d lose his new friend if he told Lloyd of his true status.

They were running out of time, but Lloyd wasn’t worried. Though Dhaos would be much older, he’d pointed out that the child, being a half-elf, would live more than long enough to see the Passing twice more.

And four hundred years was a long time to search, quite unlike the three-year deadline they’d had forced on them now.

Lloyd had been sure to keep Dhaos centered in simply _living_ , as well as making sure the boy understood he wasn’t upset by the lack of answers, and they’d celebrated the teen’s fifteenth birthday just a couple weeks ago...

But today... today was different, because the teen who appeared when the bridge opened was carrying a book... and bore the expression of one who knew they were bearing bad news.

Lloyd took a deep breath as he realized what it meant.

Kratos... was dead.

“Dhaos?” Lloyd prompted, bracing himself for whatever the boy had found.

The half-elf hung his head, and held out a worn book, opening it to a page near the back. It only took Lloyd a glance to recognize it as a journal... and a moment more to recognize his father’s handwriting.

He could feel the mana coalescing around them, Martel or the spirit of the Derris-Kharlan tree helping to make illusion solid as Lloyd reached out to take the journal.

_NE 57, Auradon 15 / AY 51, Ifrismon 17_

_I think the half-elves think me foolish for continuing to keep track of the Aselian days when the calendars are so different, but I believe Erebor’s figured it out. He knows I left Lloyd behind._

_It’s his birthday, today. Sixty-eight years old. And now, I am faced with a dilemma._

_Wait until the trees reenter the range needed for contact, and hope Yuan will still be waiting, or leave this world while Lloyd is (assuming he hasn’t gotten himself killed doing something stupid) still alive?_

_I want to know how his life has gone. I want to see the world he rebuilt, the tree that I’ve no doubt thrives on Aselia. And yet..._

_No parent should have to outlive their child._

_I can’t decide. I’ve put it from my mind for so long, allowed our work here on Derris-Kharlan to distract me, but now things are settling, and Lloyd is nearing the age that his body will weaken and fade._

_It’s a decision I will have to make later, as Daphne seems to need me for something again._

_NE 57, Maradon 26 / AY 51, Gnossemon 28_

_I will not return to Aselia. Yuan will understand, if he doesn’t die before then. I’d forgotten, for a time, that he was inflicted with the elven curse of the stars. With Mithos gone, he has no means of stopping it from progressing._

_I can only hope that, whatever afterlife exists, I can find Lloyd there someday._

_Farewell, my son._

Another note, in vastly different handwriting, had been penned in on the next page, and Lloyd read it just as numbly as he’d read the last two entries his father had written.

_It is done. Kratos Aurion lies beneath the great mana tree he has spent his decades upon Derris-Kharlan protecting._

_I cannot shake the feeling that this is a grave mistake, but he would have removed his crystal regardless of my protests, had I made them. And still, something tells me that this journal will be found, and read... Perhaps not in my lifetime; I’ve seen so many centuries already, it will be a miracle if I live to see Derris-Kharlan and Aselia within mana range again. And so I beseech whomever finds it. See it returned to Lloyd Irving-Aurion on Aselia, so that he might speak to his father one last time before Kratos’ Cruxis Crystal is destroyed. The worlds will pass each other just shy of every four hundred and fifty years. I’ve listed the years below._

_My heart tells me that Lloyd will not die before he learns of his father’s fate._

Lloyd flipped to the back cover, which he could feel was thicker than the front by a good margin, and stared in mild dismay at the Cruxis Crystal inlaid there, chipped and cracked as if someone had taken a hammer to it.

Dhaos reached forward, hesitated, and then flipped back a couple pages, revealing another note, in yet another distinct style of handwriting.

_NE 897, Auradon 3_

_Given the events of the last few days, I suppose I ought to add my piece._

_This journal was found while my crew and I were packing things up and preparing to tear down the old palace. The place isn’t structurally sound anymore (no wonder, if it’s lasted almost nine hundred years!), and it had to be done. The man who found it brought it to me, claiming that the spirit in the book was quite incensed. Seems it was his wish that the gem in the back cover was to be destroyed and buried with his body centuries ago._

_I should have just destroyed the crystal and left it at that, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. I read the whole thing, and then started seeking out the rest of the journals. This is history that our people cannot be allowed to forget. And it was in the third of the eight journals that I found the location of the great mana tree._

_I had not realized it was so close... And upon re-reading the final note written by who I can only guess was Erebor, I realized that it was possible that contact might be made with Aselia._

_Opening the bridge was not an easy feat, but Norn (bless her soul, that spirit, for she was the greatest help I could have asked for in this task) taught me how to do it, and we waited. Again and again we tried, for she was certain that Erebor was correct, and Lloyd was, indeed, still alive._

_Or at least, had been at the last passing._

_When the bridge was formed, it was not a brown-haired man who stood before me, but a girl of perhaps seventeen or eighteen years, with long hair of spun gold and crystal blue eyes._

_She introduced herself as Colette Aurion. I recognized the name ‘Colette,’ and she matched the description Kratos gave of Colette Brunel... It seemed I’d found Lloyd’s wife. Also present was Martel, guardian spirit of the Aselian tree, and to them, I presented the final journal and the Cruxis Crystal in its back cover._

_I am not easily frightened, but the girl’s reaction scared me._

_“Destroy it! Destroy it now!” she had cried, so distraught at the sight of the crystal that Martel had needed to keep her from running to hold the connection open. And I had not the heart to refuse._

_Martel gave me my orders, and though I told her I would follow through... I cannot bring myself to destroy the journals, and Norn agrees with me._

_The Cruxis Crystal has been shattered, Kratos’ soul released from its purgatory, and I will hide this journal and the rest of the set within the library of the new palace once it is built._

_I’m sorry, Lloyd Aurion. I realize, in hindsight, that I should have demanded your presence before producing the journal. Truly, you deserved to know first-hand, and I can only hope your wife tells you soon._

_Graham Derron_

The journal began to slip from his fingers, and Dhaos caught it easily, even as Lloyd took a step back, shock and betrayal striking far too close to home.

Colette had known.

 _Martel_ had known. For _millennia_.

“I’m sorry. I was hoping it was wrong...” Dhaos said quietly. “I...”

Lloyd took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he bit out. At the startled and somewhat hurt look on the teen’s face, he shook his head. “I’m not angry at you. I’m sorry. I need to...”

Dhaos held the journal tight, nodded, and then faded from the surrounding area as he pulled his mana in, reclaiming it from the bridge and leaving Lloyd alone.

Except, this was the tree.

He was never alone here.

But the clearing was silent, save for the familiar sounds of the waves on the lake, and the rustling leaves that adorned the Yggdrasill’s branches. And though Lloyd knew he was crying, he didn’t care.

“Martel.”

His voice sounded harsh, and he’d made no attempt to keep the anger out of it.

She stepped out of the Yggdrasill’s trunk, head bowed.

“You lied to me.”

“You asked if Kratos had tried to make contact. It wasn’t a lie,” she argued, though her body language said she knew it was a hollow excuse.

Lloyd held himself in place, clamping down on the rising urge to kill the woman before him.

“A lie of omission is still a lie!” he snapped. “You and Colette both! All these years, all of the guilt and frustration I’ve felt every time I’ve _missed_ a passing! You let me believe there was still someone waiting for me on Derris-Kharlan! Did anyone even _tell_ Kratos before his Cruxis Crystal was destroyed?!”

Green eyes closed. “No. Graham destroyed it before our eyes, within minutes of the connection being opened.”

It took him a moment to realize that the choked sob had come from _his_ throat.

Martel looked up finally, pain in her eyes. “Big brother...”

Lloyd’s snarl wasn’t even human, his wings forming and flaring behind him in a familiar display of aggression, and one that was normally more exaggerated than true... as this one was.

“Don’t you _dare_ call me that! You are no sister of mine!”

He was in the sky in seconds, wings spread wide and carrying him far above the point where a human would have _died_ from how thin the air was.

Martel had spent the last twenty-four hundred years _lying to him_.

Colette had never once mentioned that she knew anything of Kratos’ death... even reassuring him at one time that he’d have better luck at the twelve hundred year passing.

Lloyd let loose in the only way he dared. He’d worry about the repercussions later, when he was physically exhausted enough that taking a nap wouldn’t leave him with more nightmares than rest.

 


	46. Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lloyd lets go... of everything.

He didn’t know how long he’d remained in the air before almost literally crashing back to earth just outside Heimdall. The elves had found him unconscious in the Ymir Forest, and had brought him back to Heimdall, where he had woken up feeling numb.

Something inside of him, something that had kept him going for so long, kept him _alive_ , had simply... snapped.

_“Don’t die, Lloyd.”_

He hadn’t... He _hadn’t!_ So why... why...

He knew why. He’d read it in the final entries of his father’s journal.

Kratos had left a human teenager on Aselia. And a human Lloyd would have died of old age not long after the year Kratos had died.

But Lloyd wasn’t human, hadn’t been since he was twenty-two, and they’d had no way to tell his father by that time.

There was so much rage, so much pain...

Lloyd stood and left the room he’d been placed in, walking through the village with a vague purpose, and an aching heart.

He found his way to Origin’s slate in a daze, a part of him peripherally aware that he must have looked like one of the lifeless angels that had dotted Welgaia thousands of years ago—because that was how he _felt_.

He knelt in front of the little monument, not here for Origin, but for the half-elf whose body had been buried behind the slate. “Was this how you felt, Mithos? Was this what it was like, to lose your sister when you had only just ended the war? When the tree was dying, and you’d lost anyway?”

A single tear fell from his eyes, and he let out a ragged breath. “It didn’t hurt like this when they died. Lilia, Colette, Zelos, Corellia... But this... this isn’t just about death, is it? Martel _lied_ to me for _millennia._ And Colette... Maybe that was why she gave up when she did. She wanted to drag me down with her, so I’d never know.”

He hurt. It wasn’t a physical hurt, but it was an ache that weighed down his entire being.

“I thought, when the Blood Purge and the mess with Ratatosk happened, that I’d figured out why you would be so willing to let the world die for your sister. I realize now that I was wrong.”

“Lloyd...”

Origin. He had appeared out of the slate, looking far more human than Lloyd had expected. It seemed no spirit wanted to bear their formes more than a few millennia at a time. Still...

“Did you know, as well?” he asked, little to no bite in the question. He was far too tired now to be angry with the spirit of creation just yet, when he hadn’t gotten an answer.

“I suspected. But I never asked, and perhaps that was a mistake.”

Lloyd closed his eye, took a deep breath, and gave up tamping down the rage bubbling up within him.

He wouldn’t take Mithos’ path, no matter how tempting it was to kill the Yggdrasill. Humans, elves, and half-elves no longer needed mana, after all, though the lack would severely affect the elves.

And so, for Origin’s sake, he would do this one last thing.

Blue-green wings spread behind him, then _changed_ , mana becoming almost glassy, the tips of his wings fading to white, while the feathers across the top edges and nearest his back darkened to violet.

And floating between his folded wings, as if the mana feathers were disguising some form of sheath, was the Eternal Sword. It flashed from its place at his back to a spot in front of him, and Origin’s eyes widened, clearly aware of what Lloyd was about to do.

The angel spread his arms wide, and the Eternal Sword seemed to shatter, four items floating in a bit of a rectangle formation before him.

The Vorpal Blade he’d gotten from his adoptive father, Dirk.

The Flamberge gifted to him from his biological father, Kratos.

The Ring of the Pact, materials collected by the latter and forged by the former.

And the Diamond Ring he had received when they had made their pact all those millennia ago.

“Lloyd... Please, tell me you’re not...” Origin started.

Lloyd raised his eyes to meet the spirit’s, determined to do at least this last thing right.

“Origin, Spirit of Creation...”

“Stop, you need to think this over—“

“I am one who holds your pact.”

“I know you’re hurt, but this isn’t—“

“I return to you now your pact ring, and relinquish the Material Blades.”

“Lloyd! Please, _don’t_!”

“With this, I nullify our pact.”

With a cry of what could have been pain, but which he had a feeling was simply frustration, Origin disappeared, the Diamond Ring and Ring of the Pact with him.

The two blades he’d received from his fathers seemed to taunt him from where they remained, stuck into the ground in a cross.

“It’s done, Mithos. I swore I’d never follow your path... and no matter how much I may wish to do so now, I owed Origin this much.” A pause, and Lloyd pulled a few feathers from his once-again blue-green wings, laying them at the base of the slate in a mockery of flowers. “Farewell... brother.”

He had orders to give to the elves.

They would need to separate the blades. The Flamberge would go to the desert somewhere. The Vorpal Blade would be sent to the north, where ice clung year-round.

And in the meantime, Lloyd flew to his sanctuary, walking through the garden still aching.

It was automatic, carving a new name on his list, and Lloyd hadn’t quite realized he’d done it until he’d finished his work.

The name taunted him, reminded him of everything he’d been clinging to for years. The hopes, the plans he’d made for when Kratos returned, Ratatosk teaching him to free his friends and father from the pull of mana...

_“Don’t die, Lloyd.”_

“Easy for you to say.”

_“Don’t die, Lloyd.”_

“You never even heard me, did you?”

_“Don’t die, Lloyd.”_

“No? Fine. I guess I did promise, didn’t I?”

_“Don’t die, Lloyd.”_

“I’ve never gone back on my word before.”

_“Don’t die, Lloyd.”_

“Shut up!”

Later, Lloyd would realize that using Athame’s final gift to him in such a manner should have been his first warning that he’d found and passed the point of no return. He’d ruined the beautiful blade, and now that rough gouge would always mar the surface of his memorial stone.

But at that very moment, he couldn’t have cared less. “You didn’t want me to die? Fine! Heaven, hell... I don’t give a damn what sort of afterlife you ended up in! I’m _never_ joining you there!”

Blue wings churned the air as he fled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. Yeah. This. This chapter right here is exactly why I hate trying to write Lloyd's POV in Book 2. In case the last few lines aren't indication enough, yes, someone really ought to check him into a loony bin. Unfortunately, the entire reason WHY he's lost it (everyone capable of doing so is DEAD) also means... well. There's no one around to do so.


	47. Eternal Swordsmen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Origin has given his new swordsman an ultimatum.

The sanctuary had long since fallen into disrepair.

The markers had needed replaced within decades of Lloyd’s last visit, but he couldn’t be bothered, and so they’d weathered away and failed. The gardens were lost to untamed ivy and brush, though a few wildflowers still clung to life in the cold, a faint dusting of snow white-washing the whole scene.

The memorial, carved with protective runes that had lasted far longer than the markers, was still in the exact same shape as it had been nine hundred years ago, though the ‘temple’ around it had also fallen into ruin.

Lloyd himself was rather changed. Where once he’d worn red, now there was an absence of color. Black, gray, brown... Not even his wings were visible to add color to him.

He didn’t know what kept him going anymore. Spite, perhaps? But he was so tired...

He knelt in front of the memorial and looked over the names, fingertips brushing over the words carved upon the stone, and sighed. “How many of you must think I’m a fool?” he whispered. “All this time, all this pain and suffering... and I still won’t let go.” Russet eyes caught on one name in particular, and he bowed his head, shame tugging at his heart.

“I’m sorry, Ratatosk. You entrusted the world to me, and I’ve spent the last eight hundred years doing nothing, after razing half the world a century prior... I suppose I should have gone to the tree to apologize to Dhaos, but that would have required going near Martel...” He stopped and sighed. “I’m sorry, Mithos. The spirit that bears your sister’s face and name is no longer my sister. You probably would have found it so neat that we chose each other as family, but... I can’t get her betrayal out of my head.” He stopped, a sudden thought occurring to him, not something he’d considered prior to this.

“Colette... You killed yourself. Was it guilt? Did you tell Zelos before you died? Or was Kratos’ suicide a secret you took with you to your grave?” He shook his head, eyes falling to one of the last names he’d engraved before he’d taken to wandering the world in a daze. “Corellia... I miss you, so much. I wish you were still with me, love. I could use your steady head right now, more than anything else...”

He sat there, pouring his heart out to a stone for the first time in nearly a millennium, for over three hours.

It was the mana that drew his attention away from the stone first.

Familiar mana, chaotic and powerful, and Lloyd knew it like he knew his own mana because he’d been connected to it for over three thousand years.

Origin. That was _Origin’s_ mana...

Except, then he realized just what it meant for that much of Origin’s power to have been expended, and so far away from the spirit’s slate.

Someone was coming, a swordsman. Origin had teleported the new Eternal Swordsman to where the third set of markers had once been.

Which meant either the world had gone to hell in a handbasket without him noticing, or the poor fool had been chucked back in time for one reason or another.

He could have left. Could have stood, exited the temple, taken to the air and been _gone..._

But, he wasn’t so desperate to avoid contact that he would do so. And... a part of him wanted to meet the new swordsman. If only to try to warn him.

Whomever it was, he was in no great hurry. Armored boots crunched through snow and the brittle remains of plants at a steady, but slow pace. A pause at the entrance to the temple, and then he entered the ruined building.

When he came to a stop next to him, Lloyd wondered which of them would speak first. The newcomer, clearly sent by Origin, or him?

“Origin told me I’d find you here.”

“I figured as much. I felt you land,” he replied. “So... he sent his new champion to kill the old.”

“What?”

Honest surprise, and hurt.

Lloyd looked up, dull russet eyes meeting stormy blue-gray.

Blonde, again, though more a dirty blonde than Mithos’ golden blonde. Younger than Lloyd had been when his Cruxis Crystal had frozen him in time, but older than he’d been when he’d made the pact with Origin. A strangely familiar facial structure that he couldn’t be bothered to place at the moment. Armor. A red headband and cape.

Lloyd looked away again. “After all this time... I suppose Origin’s finally decided I’m a lost cause, then. About time. It’s been nine hundred years since I nullified the pact.” Not to mention some of the destruction he’d caused in that first century.

He’d been angry, so, _so_ angry, and no longer in danger of using the Eternal Sword with the pact nullified, so he’d let himself go.

A large part of him had wanted to use and abuse as much mana as he could, draining it away from the Yggdrasill to kill the giant tree. Martel would die with it... but that would have been almost impossible without a mana cannon.

So he’d gone the other direction, and targeted magi-tech, wreaking a path of destruction across the world as he wiped it all out...

He hadn’t bothered to track the body counts, but he knew they had been high.

And when the humans had sent their champions after him, he’d alternated between killing those tasked with ending him, and just fleeing, taking to the sky for months at a time to lose their trails.

But that had been centuries ago. And now... Now, Lloyd was just tired.

The swordsman was being suspiciously silent.

“Are you really going to tell me I’m wrong?” Lloyd asked.

“I’m a little too busy telling Origin _he’s_ wrong to be arguing with _you_ right now,” the blonde said, his voice an odd mix of annoyed and sorrowful.

“Oh? And what exactly is Origin wrong about this time?”

The man sighed. “You surprised him.”

“I’ve done that a lot over the millennia. You’d think he’d be used to it by now.”

“You realize you could have ended your life ages ago, right? Why are you still going?”

Lloyd frowned, and glanced up at the swordsman. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “At first, it was because I’d promised to protect the Yggdrasill as it grew... then because I didn’t like watching everyone fighting, and wanted to put a stop to it. Then... because I was waiting for someone. And when I found out he’d died when I was in my sixties... spite kept me going.” A sigh, and a shrug. “Now? Now I guess it’s just too ingrained in me to _survive_.”

“I see.”

The silence fell again for a while, and Lloyd couldn’t help the niggling curiosity beginning to get the better of him.

“What’s your name?”

“Cress Albane.Yours?”

He didn’t know why the kid was asking. There was no doubt Origin had told him.

“Lloyd,” he replied anyway. He’d stopped going by ‘Irving’ among the humans not long after Dirk had died. And, by the time Colette had died, even the dwarves knew him as ‘Aurion’ instead.

But... Lloyd Aurion had been sane. Stable. And hadn’t broken all of his vows yet.

He’d cast off the name ‘Aurion’ centuries ago. Kratos didn’t deserve to have that sort of a legacy attached to his name.

It took him a moment to realize that Cress was walking away.

“I thought Origin sent you to kill me.” The words poured from his mouth in a bit of a rush, surprise making him tense up.

Footsteps paused, and Lloyd had the feeling the man had turned to look back at him.

“He gave me an ultimatum. I’m not willing to kill you.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Lloyd said darkly. Because if Origin had been willing to send Cress through time to find him, that meant he’d started to tip over into last resorts.

And that was never a good sign with the spirit of creation. There was _always_ another option.

“Maybe. But I’ve come this far. Stopping now would be giving up.”

The laugh that bubbled up out of his throat was harsh, and the sound would have startled Lloyd if he hadn’t heard it before, the last couple of times someone had been sent to kill him and they’d started spouting nonsense about justice.

He’d always hated that word. That hadn’t changed after four thousand years.

And the kid... “You sound just like me, when I was your age.” Lloyd closed his eyes. “You’ll change your mind in time.”

He heard Cress take a deep breath, and let it out. “We’ll see. Goodbye for now, Lloyd.”

Five, ten, eighteen more steps, and then there was the oh-so-familiar presence once again before it faded. Lloyd didn’t need to look back to know that Cress was gone.

He sighed and looked over the list of names on the stone again, eyes catching on Ratatosk one more time.

“I haven’t retightened the seal yet for this millennium. I guess I should, shouldn’t I? The world seems to be in good hands...” He stood slowly, brushing the snow and dirt off of his pants. “I’m tired. I think... I’m going to rest for a while, once I’ve tightened the seal.”

Nine hundred years, Lloyd had gone without food or sleep. And while he could have kept going on like that for millennia, now that he bothered to feel, he could tell that it was wearing on him.

He followed the footsteps in the snow that led to where Origin had sent Cress back to his own point in time, and stood there for a long few moments.

“Idiot... You’ll learn eventually. There’s always a price.”

Blue-green light flooded the area, turning the snow an eerie shade of blue, and Lloyd took to the sky for the first time in centuries. He’d need to fly to reach the Ginnungagap...

And...he’d forgotten how amazing it felt, to race through the skies with nothing but the air under his wings holding him up.

 


	48. The Gift of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans aren't meant to be hermits. Lloyd doesn't approve of the decision Cress made three hundred years ago... but he's not going to argue, either.

The gateway of the Ginnungagap was open again, Lloyd mused as he returned to the seal from visiting the line of graves that existed not too far away.

A part of him realized that he’d been down here for _centuries_ , and really should have left a long time ago. He had come down here to tighten the seal, and sleep, and he’d done both, the latter probably in excess.

But a part of him had a mind to simply stay for another few centuries... or millennia. Make this _his_ realm, and give him a bit of purpose in his self-imposed exile.

The sound of armored boots clunk-clunking against the packed ground outside the seal snapped him out of his musings, and that wasn’t the only sound that reached his ears.

Cloth swishing back and forth, another, much softer set of footsteps, and swishing _hair_.

Lloyd reacted, vanishing out of the open space that had been Ratatosk’s sanctuary once. They hadn’t seen him yet, and while he had a feeling one of them might have been the swordsman Origin had sent to him hundreds of years ago... well.

The other _wasn’t_ , and there was no telling what, exactly, Origin’s other option had been. Although Lloyd had his suspicions as the duo approached the seal.

Cress was a familiar face. Decked out in the same armor and red cape he’d worn when he’d first approached Lloyd, he also didn’t appear to have aged at all. So, either Origin had sent him back from this point in time, or...

Lloyd desperately squashed that ‘or’ and hoped that the boy hadn’t been _that_ foolish.

“So... Big empty dead end,” the pink-haired woman beside him said.

Lloyd very carefully checked her mana.

Half-elf. And for her to look to be somewhere in her early thirties, she had to be a couple hundred years old already. Though, at a glance, she did look younger. It was the hair, Lloyd decided.

Still...

He dropped to the ground from his hiding place near the ceiling. “You should leave this place. The gateway won’t stay open for long.” And he really didn’t want to have to open it for them.

Cress shrugged. “Origin’s holding it open, more for Arche than for me.”

Lloyd felt his stomach drop. That meant...

“So, is _this_ where you’ve been hiding for the last three hundred years? Eek. No wonder it took us a whole frickin’ century to find you,” the woman commented. Heh, her voice still sounded young, too.

But... a century... So, the kid had already been an angel for a time, then.

Any human friends would already be gone. That explained the half-elf.

But she wouldn’t last forever, either.

Lloyd shot one more look at the swordsman before turning and standing in front of the seal once again.

It looked... wrong. The Cores were gone, the colors faded, and he could see the miasma of Niflheim with ease, though he knew it wouldn’t be breaking through any time soon.

There was no biting sarcasm waiting for him here as there had been four thousand years ago. No quiet sentinel, and no fond exasperation.

Ratatosk, Richter, and Tenebrae were long gone. Along with everyone else Lloyd had ever loved.

Cress would understand soon enough. Arche had to be at least two hundred already. Which meant she had, at most, eight hundred years left.

“Lloyd,” Cress spoke up, his voice carrying hints of a mild threat. “If I must send Arche back alone, I will.”

So, that was it, then.

Origin had told Cress to kill him and end his suffering... or join him.

He scoffed at the thought.

That part of him that wanted to stay in the Ginnungagap for another few centuries reared up, tempting him to do it just to spite Origin and the foolish boy he’d managed to talk into this.

But, at the same time...

He glanced back, meeting blue-gray eyes, and realized that he might as well try to out-stubborn _himself_ , from back when he actually had a reason to live.

Origin wouldn’t settle for anything less, he supposed. And... The last few hundred years _had_ been spent mostly asleep, recovering from his near-millennium of madness, and with the rest had come some clarity.

He’d been alone, completely and totally alone, since he’d found out about Kratos. He’d nullified his pact with Origin, and in his avoidance of Martel, he’d abandoned Dhaos as well.

He’d never been meant to be so completely isolated, he knew.

And while he was still pissed with Martel, and wanted nothing to do with _her_...

Origin had been like a brother to him after Colette’s death. And Cress...

Lloyd could see it in the storm-colored eyes that dared him to argue. He could see the shadows of loss, the heartache of losing someone loved above one’s own life.

Loss and heartache that seemed to have been Lloyd’s only friend these last thousand years.

And... Maybe it would just mean more heartache and yet another name to add to his memorial eventually. But he’d go along with this for now, for one reason and one reason only.

He knew the torture that was loneliness.

Even if Cress eventually gave up on him, and Lloyd had to destroy _another_ Cruxis Crystal, he may as well stick with the idiot. That half-elf, Arche... she’d be gone eventually, and all Cress would have left would be... Lloyd. The broken, tormented soul he hadn’t had the heart to end when Origin had sent him back in time.

Origin had set it up like this, Lloyd realized, even as he nodded his reluctant consent to leave. He had set Cress up for the same torture that had been Lloyd’s long life.

But as they reached the gateway out of the Ginnungagap, Lloyd couldn’t help the tiny flicker of gratitude, and he knew it showed when Origin smiled at him.

He’d hold to his promise, he told himself as the spirit of creation vanished again. He wouldn’t die, and he’d return to the Ginnungagap when needed... and when Cress gave up.

But... for a little while, at least... he wouldn’t be alone.

Arche took to the sky riding a broom like a classical storybook witch, and in his surprise, Lloyd couldn’t quite stop the snort that worked its way up and out of his throat.

Crimson flared, and Lloyd’s own blue-green wings formed in seconds as he took off after Cress. None of the angels Lloyd had known in the past had had wings even _close_ to the scarlet shade that adorned the blonde swordsman’s back, and a part of Lloyd was grateful. It set Cress apart, kept Lloyd from aching for anyone in particular too badly.

“HEY! Last one to Eienmura is a rotten egg!”

The shout startled Lloyd, even as Cress rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you have a daughter that just turned a hundred?” the blonde yelled back to the pink-haired half-elf already shooting off across the sky.

“GROWING OLD IS MANDATORY, GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL!”

Lloyd snorted again, truly amused by the woman’s antics, even as Cress started chuckling. “And she wonders why Chester was always so annoyed with her...” The blonde turned to look back at Lloyd. “You know where the Ymir Forest is, right? Given how long the elves live, I don’t _think_ the name’s changed recently...”

Something seemed to get glued back together within him, filling him with a warmth he’d thought long lost, and he smirked, wings stretching wide as he prepared to respond to Arche’s challenge. “Please. Three hundred years in the Ginnungagap hasn’t changed the fact that I’m the fastest thing in the sky.”

Cress grinned right back and took off after Arche, clearly aware that she was currently leaving them in the dust. Not that she’d be the one kicking up the proverbial dust for long... Lloyd chuckled, very nearly surprising himself with the sound that came out of his throat.

It wasn’t the harsh, humorless sound he’d grown so used to... but the light laughter that Corellia had so loved to hear when he was playing with their kids.

And, really... Arche and Cress were _young_. Maybe they didn’t feel like it right now, with their human friends old or dying, but they were.

It was well past time he started making himself useful again. And, whether that use was keeping the humans from tearing themselves—and the world as a whole—apart, protecting the Ginnungagap, or just keeping Cress company... it gave him a purpose, a drive, a will to _live_.

_“Don’t die, Lloyd... my son.”_

Heh... Maybe Dad had had the right idea, after all.

Someone needed to keep the kids out of trouble.

But first things first...

Lloyd grinned and stopped dilly-dallying, shooting through the air and past both Cress and Arche, whose indignant shouting had him laughing once again.

Maybe... this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap... for now. I'll post Book 2 whenever I get it finished and find someone to beta-read for me.


End file.
